Silent Whisper
by Anna Whitlinger
Summary: America and the other countries leave the World Meeting to find themselves in the desert. How did they end up here, in the middle of nowhere? Soon, they arrive at an empty town, seemingly harmless. But looks can be deceiving...
1. Prologue

**Hurray! You're reading my story! *happy cheer* I KNEW you would give it a chance!**

**Ahem. Okay. Moving on. Sooo, I know I'm writing three Hetalia fanfics at once, but really...I'm just that obsessed. I kinda like watching horror movies, because sometimes it's fun to get scared. To those who read my Hetalympics story, I bet you can all tell my favorite character is America by now. Mostly it's because: a)it's easy to write about him (PROUD AMERICAN HERE), b)my country, and c)the humor. **

**I'm not really sure about the second main character, so I need your opinions, guys! Any of the G8 including Prussia and Canada are fine. **

**That's all I have to say. The countries come out next chap, which hopefully I can upload today because this prologue is waayy too short.**

**ENJOY, FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

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**x PRolOguE x**

Not a single sound had been heard in this town for a hundred years.

One could call it a ghost town, but it was much, much worse. Ghosts would be hesitant to enter, wary of the terrors it held. And they were right. No single soul dwelled in its houses or streets. No one dared.

It wasn't always like this. This town used to be just like any other town, with a sheriff-or, if you chose a different name, a mayor-and its decent townspeople. Nothing out of the ordinary, right?

But something happened one day. Maybe it all started when the river stopped running, or when the sheriff was found dead in his office, covered in dark blood, or...maybe it was because of the girl.

The little girl was named after the town. Her name was Whisper, because of her dark origins. No one dared to speak of it, so instead the story spread among whispers. Her mother's name was Marriane Berlow, a common name in the town. The story of how little Whisper came to be was not a pretty one.

Marriane grew up in a poor family. With a prostitute and an alcoholic as parents, she never expected much from it, anyway. She was constantly defending herself and her little brother Timmon from life's harshest gifts: beatings, verbal abuse and days without supper. On Marriane's 16th birthday, she was raped in the back of the local bar by a middle-aged man who was called Salton Cardwell. Salton came from a very rich family, but he abandoned them for a life of crime. Rumours say that she killed him, because the following morning he was found dead in the river, dry blood smeared on his chest.

That was the story of how Whisper was born to this world. Whisper was, in fact, a very sweet child. She didn't say much, but she was always obedient, always there for other children her age, and always, always did what her Mommy said.

There was only one thing very strange about Whisper. People said she was a witch. Everywhere she went, odd things would happen. All the disgusting rats in the diner would suddenly all die at once, or the butler's freshly butchered pig would magically disappear. Some swore Whisper could even manipulate time.

And then one day Marriane killed three of her coworkers in cold blood, on a chilly December morning. She was scheduled for an execution after being proven guilty, but she hung herself instead.

Whisper never spoke again after that.

What was even stranger was that Whisper never aged after her mother's death. She remained a six-year old, while other youths grew up to become healthy young teens. But her eyes made her seem wise and tired of life.

People began to avoid her, because they were afraid. Afraid she might do something terrible.

Well, no one really knows why one day everyone in Silent Whisper disappeared, right? Only I know the truth, and I am here to tell it.

My name is Whisper. This is not my story.

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**Shall I continue? ;)**


	2. World Meeting

**Woohoo! I feel like cheering, because if you're reading this, that means you liked the first chapter! **

**And I updated it on the same day! Go me!**

**You're probably getting sick of all these exclamation marks! So enjoy and please fav, follow, or review!**

**:)**

**Sorry. I forgot to mention two things. One, the disclaimer. I do not own Hetalia or the picture. It's obvious, so I'm only going to post this once. Two: this story is actually based on and inspired by HetaOni. You'll find that the plot is slightly similar. Oh, and I don't own HetaOni either. Sadly.**

**Thanks to my one reviewer who gave me ideas! You rock! =D**

**ENJOY~**

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**x ChAptEr OnE x**

**.x. America .x.**

"Dudes! Is this like totally awesome or what?" America grinned and motioned towards his PowerPoint, which was being projected on the wall.

"I think your reasoning is illogical," England huffed. "How can we genetically create a gigantic superhero that will deflect any unnecessary rays of sunlight heading towards the Earth?"

"Don't sweat it; that's the hero's job." America grinned again. "All you gotta do is back me up!"

"Why would I ever back up an idiot like you?"

"Aw, you're just pissed off about that whole Revolutionary War thing. Japan will back me up! Right, Japan?" America said confidentally.

"Unfortunately, I have to deal with the damage the tsunami caused in my country," Japan said quietly, looking away.

There was a short moment of silence; this was the first time Japan had ever rejected the "Hero of the World".

...

...

...

...

...

...

But, unfortunately, it passed quickly.

"Ah, I guess that means I'm stuck with that useless French fry," America said without enthusiasm.

"Excuse moi?" France said, offended. "You have to remember, I _did_ help you beat up Mr. Catepillar Eyebrows!"

"But you lost in the Italian Wars (Spain wouldn't give up Romano to a pervert -_-), the Crimean Wars, the Seven Years' War..." England began to tick them off with his fingers.

"Oh, shut it," France snapped.

"And the Napoleonic Wars," England added.

"I said, SHUT IT!"

America, in the meanwhile, was trying to convince the rest of the Axis Powers to back him up. "Listen up, dudes! I know we're on different sides and all that, but since I'm the hero and this is an emergency, you gotta be my awesome sidekicks, understand?"

"Pasta!" Italy chirped.

Germany looked away. "I am not joinng forces with you until you prove that you can run a world meeting without chaos erupting."

That, unfortunately, was probably impossible. France and England were fighting, while China joined in with his wok because of something England said about the Opium Wars, Greece slept, Russia would not give in to anything America said, Korea went around claiming everyone's breasts (and China's wok), Spain was in the middle of an intense argument with Turkey, Estonia and Latvia were in a "mild" disagreement over the origin of the Christmas tree, Prussia tried to claim Austria's vital regions (_Why is he even here?_ America thought)...and so on.

In other words, it was another typical world gathering.

"Um..." America, for once, did not have anything to say.

"That's it," Germany said, standing up. "I can not tolerate with this any longer. Everyone, SHUT UP!"

Everyone turned to look at Germany.

"You either stop fighting and have something useful to say, or just leave. Each person is allowed no longer than 8 minutes. Raise your hand to speak, but do say in a way that does not mock any salutes of my country's past."

"You mean that Hitler dude?" America asked.

He could tell Germany was trying hard not to lose his temper. "Yes."

Silence.

More silence, then...

"This is useless. Why did I even bother to come?"

"Like, what a waste of time! I'm going to, like, go home and feed my pony."

"Zzzz...hmm? What happened? Oh...I can hear my cats calling..."

"I have an urge to pinch Romano's cheeks...he's so adorable!"

"Da-ze! Everyone's leaving, so I guess I'll go, too..."

One by one, all of the countries left America's house, until there were only 10 people left: the G8 and Prussia.

"Wait...why are there only 9 of us but I counted 10?"

"Because you forgot yourself, frog! Let _me_ do the counting..." England calculated the number of people in the room and paled. "You're right...I wonder who else is in the room?"

"Uh, dude? You're freaking me out..."

"Everyone just sit down and I'll do the math!" Germany ordered. Everyone sat but Germany. "Okay...eins, zwei, drei, vier, funf, sechs..."

America snickered. "Did you just say sex?"

"Be quiet! Sieben, acht, neun, zehn..." Germany rubbed his chin. "Who is the tenth person in here?"

"D-Dude! Seriously! Is there a gh-gh-ghost?"

"I'm not a ghost," a soft voice said. No one heard him. "My name is..."

"This is certainly a mystery," England said thoughtfully.

"My name is..."

"The Awesome Prussia will figure it out! So, not including the awesome me and you group of 8, there was one person who didn't go..."

"My name is..."

"Hmm, there must be someone we're forgetting," England said. "America, can't you figure anything out? You _are_ the hero after all..."

"I'm...I'm not America..."

The nations stared. And stared.

"Yeah, his curl is different," Prussia remarked.

"Guys, I'm right here! _I'm_ America!" America shouted. He was standing on the opposite side of the "fake" America.

"Duh, that's Canada," France said, with an impatient yet graceful wave of his hand. "I knew it all long."

"Then why didn't you tell us, you bloody frog?"

"I was seeing how long it took your mentally challenged brains to figure it out."

"Why, you-"

"All of you, SIT DOWN!" Germany said, but, once again, the nations had begun to fight.

_I'm getting hungry_, America thought. _Maybe we should just screw it and meet up next time..._

So he was grateful when Germany said, "Fine. I give up. You can go on without me. I cannot stand this any longer." The nation stood. "Goodbye."

He left.

"I was just trying to help!" America said, and left his own house.

"I was going to leave in the first place, anyway." England followed behind America.

"This meeting can't handle my awesomeness. Why did I come to such an unawesome meeting?"

"I suppose I should be reaving too..."

"Hmmph. I have a love waiting at home."

"Vodka, here I come! Kolkolkolkol~"

"I am going home to make some won ton mien, aru~"

"Veee~! Don't leave me here alone!"

...

...

...

...

"You guys...forgot about me..."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada..."

Canada followed behind Italy, until there was truly no one left in the room.

As America made his way out, he pondered about where to have lunch. There were a number of choices, really. Mickie D's had the better burgers, KFC had the better...well, chicken, and Burger King had awesome fries.

He saw Germany standing in the doorway, frozen. "Hey, dude, could you move out of the way, please?"

Germany didn't answer. "Dude?"

America pushed him out of the way (a little too hardly)and finally saw what made Germany stand so still.

"Bloody git! Stop blocking the doorway!" came England's voice from behind.

America ignored him. What he saw, what Germany saw, was literally America's nightmare come to life.

He swallowed hard, his cerulean blue eyes widening with shock, horror, and complete recognition.

...

...

...

...

...

...

_"It...can't be..."_

_..._

_..._

_..._

...

...

...

_"Are we really...here?"_

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**Mwahahaha! A cliffy! As you can all tell, America knows something! Also, I'm so glad you read to the end! *hug* Unless you skimmed, of course. Then, whatever...at least you skimmed! XD**

**You might also be wondering: what's up with all the ellipses? Well, I saw that a lot of other writers were doing it, and it actually creates suspense. That answers your question.**

**FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~***

***Note: As I'm sure all fanfic authors feel, we authors love reviews. They 1) let us know what the readers think, 2)makes us write harder because someone is reading them, and 3)helps us improve. If you really don't want to review, at least follow it! If you STILL refuse to, well...it's alright. Just as long as you enjoyed the story! ^.^**

**Longer chapter next time!**

**Sayonala~**

**~Anna~**


	3. The Town

**Aw, no new reviews! You broke my heart!**

**Nah, just kidding. My heart isn't that easily broken. But yes! You're reading this! Even though you didn't review for the previous chapters, you still have a chance to prove yourself here! **

**Sooo, I had a lot of time on my hands (summer vacation and all that)so I decided to upload yet ANOTHER chapter. Cuz I'm awesome. :D**

**ENJOY, FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

* * *

**x ChaPteR TwO x**

**.x. Spain .x.**

Spain was already halfway home when he realized he left his jacket at America's house.

Cursing himself in Spanish, he headed back reluctantly, hoping Romano wouldn't be too angry at his lateness. He'd personally invited the Italian over for lunch, so if Romano arrived at an empty house...the results weren't going to be pretty.

After some time the house appeared in the distance. Somehow, it was fairly quiet, unlike other times, where a racket could be heard even from half a mile away.

Spain knocked on the door. "Hola, America! It's Spain here!"

No one answered.

_Are they actually having a proper world meeting?_ Spain thought. _That's...amazing._

He tried the door and found it unlocked. Another strange thing: America's house didn't even smell like burgers. Walking down the hallway, Spain made his way to the meeting room. Again, it was empty.

_Where did everybody go?_

The long table was clean...shiny, even, as if it was new. Unused. There were no cluttered papers, no random cups of coffee, no pasta, no scattered crumbs or stains, no rose petals, and most importantly, no jacket that belonged to Spain.

The entire room was bare. As if...

_As if no one had ever lived here._

Could it be that they'd already left? But then how did America manage to tidy up everything so quickly? He never really bothered to clean up in the first place.

Hoping that America wouldn't mind, Spain went to the nation's bedroom and opened his closet.

Empty.

A sick feeling entered his stomach. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He checked every drawer, every container, but received the same results. In the kitchen, there weren't any burgers stored in the fridge. The living room lacked all of the things Spain knew belonged to America, including his Xbox and Macbook. Only the furniture and electronic devices (TV, lights, etc.)remained.

Spain's cell phone buzzed angrily and he yelped. Somehow, staying in this house was making him jumpy. "Hello?"

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU YOU FUCKING BASTARD?"

Spain moved the cell away from his ear. "Oh, Romano, it's you!"

"OF COURSE IT'S ME! WHO THE FUCK ELSE?"

"Listen...well, I came back to America's house to retrieve my jacket, but everyone was gone! Don't you find that weird?"

"What? No! They probably just left or something."

"But even America was gone! All his personal stuff just disappeared: his clothes, his food, his electronic devices..."

Romano was quiet. "Romano?"

"My brother isn't back yet, either," Romano said finally. He sounded worried.

"Do you know any place where they might have gone?"

"Usually that idiot just follows the potato bastard around, though I told him to go to your house for lunch."

"Hmm...say, could you come over and help me look for clues?"

"Fine, you bastard. But only because I'm worried about my brother."

Romano hung up. Spain looked around the room. A red mark on the wall caught his eye. On a closer inspection, it looked like the letters S and W with a triangle wrapped around them.

"What in the world is this..."

Spain heard footsteps from behind. "Romano, is that you? Wow, I didn't know you'd arrive so fast..."

...

...

...

...

"...Romano?"

He turned and found himself staring at a thick wooden club that smelled of salt and blood. The club swiped down at his head, and Spain's world faded to black.

. . .

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**.x. Italy .x.**

"Vee~...where are we?"

Instead of reaching the usual sidewalk lined with evergreen trees, the door opened up to a vast desert. On the line where the land and sky met, the fiery orange sun had become a semicircle, slowly sinking into the ground. There was nothing to be seen for miles and miles.

"What is this place?" Germany asked gruffly.

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"Bloody hell! How in the world did we get here?"

"Now how am I going to go home, aru~!

All of the nations (and Prussia)turned to America.

"I...I don't know how this happened," America stammered. "Do you think this could be some kind of illusion?"

England knelt and patted the ground. "Well, this ground is real, for sure."

"Perhaps it's some kind of prank of America's, da?" Russia suggested.

"I told you! I have nothing to do with this."

"Then it's England's magic, oui?" France said.

"Shut up, frog! I'm just as confused as you are!"

"Germany, I'm scared," Italy whined. He wished he had some pasta.

"Stay calm, Italy," Germany said, though he didn't look too calm himself. "We'll figure something out." He turned to the other countries (and Prussia). "Do any of you have any ideas what to do now?

Japan raised his hand. "You can speak, Japan. As this is an emergency, there is no need to be polite."

"I berieve we should at reast figure out where we are. To do so, we must travel further into this desert."

"I agree with Japan. Anything else?"

"America, aren't you going to be the hero and save everyone?" England asked. "We came out of your house, after all."

America didn't reply. He just stared at the ground.

"Alright, then," Germany continued. "We'll continue moving north from America's house. But first, let's take a few things from the house."

_Pastaaa~_ Italy thought, and bounced happily back inside.

x.X.x

After everyone had grabbed their things and all of the food and necessities they could find, they met outside and began their journey north. Germany and Prussia were in the front, while Italy trailed behind them with Japan. Then came England arguing with France, Russia watching them, China grumbling, the invisible Canada, and finally America. He didn't even claim to be the leader of the group.

Italy hoped Romano wasn't worrying about him. After they exited this desert, they could all go home and eat pasta together, and everything would be okay.

...right?

* * *

**.x. America .x.**

He'd been here before. A lot of times, actually, but only one memory remained carved into his mind.

_I will get you back for this, America._

It had happened in the 1800's. He'd made a huge mistake, but at the time America thought it was necessary. He thought he was doing justice.

He couldn't tell the other countries. Because how they ended up here...it was his fault. Maybe they all believed that after this desert, they would be going home. But America knew better. This was just the beginning.

What kind of hero was he?

Maybe he could try stopping them. What was the use, though? Sooner or later, they'd run out of food, and never be able to return. Just as long as they didn't find the town, at least the countries could stay alive for a little longer.

Too late. In the distance, a few dark shapes appeared.

"I think that it's a town," Germany observed. "There might be people living there who can help us."

"Yeah, let's go!" Italy cheered.

"Listen...don't-don't go to that town!" America warned desperately. "There's no one living there. No one."

"How did you know?" England asked, turning to look at America, his emerald eyes filled with curiosity.

_England._ The only person America could trust with his secret...yet, it wasn't safe. They could all be killed if he spoke the truth. All of them, including America.

He laughed shakily. "Ah...well, lucky guess! It seems empty, don't ya think?"

"Is something wrong?" The curiosity shifted to concern.

"N-No! Of course not, dude! Why'd you think so?"

"America, if you're hiding something, we need to know immediately," Germany said sternly.

"I'm not," America said, hoping they would believe him.

"Very well, then. Let us proceed."

He had no choice but to follow along. After about twenty minutes, the nations reached the town. A lone, rotting wooden sign swung slightly from its metal pole, yet there was no breeze. He could barely make out the words, but he knew exactly what they were.

"Hmm, it reads 'Silent Whisper'," France said, squinting at the faded letters. "What a strange name for a town."

"Let's go then," Prussia said. "The awesome me will lead the way!" He rushed ahead, while calling, "Hello? Anyone?"

As they walked along the street, all of them began to yell except for America.

"America is right; there really is no one here, aru," China said, after a couple minutes passed without any response. "This is so weird..."

"Come to think of it, there were a lot of ghost towns in America back in the 1800's, weren't there?" England remarked. "Do you suppose this could be one of them? It's very Westernized, for sure."

"Yeah, maybe," America said, just to avoid suspicion.

"What are we going to do now?" Russia asked, without a trace of a smile on his face, which was very unlike Russia.

"Look around," Germany replied. "Everyone, divide into groups and search this town through."

The groups were Germany, Japan and Italy in one group, France, China, and England in another, and finally Prussia, Canada and Russia. America chose to stay alone.

"Nah, I'll be fine," America assured England, when he asked. "I just need to think about some things. You guys go ahead."

England didn't look convinced, but China was calling for him to hurry up, so he went. And finally it was America standing alone in the middle of the street.

"Why?" he said out loud. "Why are you doing this?"

There was a short silence, and then came his answer.

_I told you I wanted revenge, didn't I?_

"I know," America said, his fists clenched tightly. "But you didn't have to drag my friends into this."

_A hero doesn't feel pain when it is inflicted on him_, the voice said. _But when he sees his little friends dying in front of his eyes...well, he can do nothing about it, can he? Because he was the one to blame for their deaths._

"I won't let you kill them. Never."

_We'll see, shall we?_ The voice chuckled. _Are you really even a hero, or am I just doing what you call..._The voice sneered the word, _...justice?"_

"Fuck you, damnit!" America gritted his teeth, anger boiling inside him like never before. "FUCK YOU!"

_Cursing me won't help you. Why don't you go check on your friends to see how they're doing right now?_

_Oh God, no_, he thought. _They can't be hurt already, could they?_

He ran off towards the direction of England and his group, despair filling up his heart. _They're not dead,_ America thought. _I'm sure of it._

_Nations can't die._

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

_'Let's see how you play my game, little hero...'_

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

_'...I'll be watching you.'_

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**Yippee! Done with another chapter! I think I need to go update my Hetalympics story now. So please fav, follow, whatever...anything to let me know your opinions. ^^**

**THANKS FOR READING**

**~Anna~**


	4. New Terrors

**Wow, so now I take turns posting chapters for this story and my Hetalympics one. I want to thank DaphneAngelina for supporting both stories, and WoohooHETALIA for being such an awesome friend. :D Thanks to all my reviewers and followers, too. ^^**

**I also loved this chapter. I can't believe I get excited at my own stories... -_-**

**ENJOY, FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

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**x CHaPter FoUr x**

**.x. England .x.**

Ever since they arrived at the desert, America had been acting queer. He didn't talk in typical American, ending or beginning his sentences with "dude" or "bro", he did not bounce to the front of the group, and most of all, he wasn't even scared by the possibility of ghosts. It was almost as if he knew the town. As if he'd been here before.

"What's wrong, Opium?" China questioned when he caught the worried expression on England's face.

"Do you think America knows something?" England asked.

China tugged at his ponytail. "So you noticed, too."

England sighed. "Yes. He was trying to warn us, remember? Maybe we should really be careful."

"Just don't wander off alone, aru."

"What are you guys talking about, hmm?" France fell into step with the two countries. "Ah, is it something...sexual?"

"You have such a dirty mind, France," England said without bothering to throw in a few insults.

France seemed to sense something was wrong, because he frowned and dropped his "French" demeanor. "Iggy, really...is something bothering you?"

"It's this town, aru," China said. "It's clear that no one's here, but don't you feel it? Like someone's _watching_ us, you know? It's creeping me out, aru."

France looked around nervously. "T-That's impossible! N-No one's watching us! I think you're h-hallucinating, that is all."

"Scared, frog?" England smirked. "I didn't know _you_ were afraid of ghosts as well."

_'You should be.'_

The smirk dropped, morphing into horror. "Who said that?" England turned to France. "It was you, right?"

"Nonsense! My voice isn't that high." France gave England a look of terror. "M-Maybe there really _is_ someone here other than us."

"Sh-Shut up, you idiot! China, you said that, right...China?"

It took a second for the rival countries to realize the Eastern nation was missing. All that was left was his panda, who at the moment was leisurely chewing bamboo, sitting in China's wok.

"It can't be! He was with us a minute ago!" England said, emerald eyes wide. "Something is seriously wrong here..."

"Obviously! Where could he have gone?"

A sudden thought struck England. "D-Do you suppose he was t-taken?"

"Don't be silly! He probably just wandered off somewhere..." France paused. "Hmm? What was that...?"

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" someone shouted. A hard body slammed both England and France to the ground. England blinked. "A...America?"

America raised his pistol and fired at something in the air. The thing exploded. Blood shot out like fireworks, painting the air with crimson ribbons until finally splattering all over England and France.

After the shock had been digested, England sat up. "America! What happened?"

America was a mess. His bomber jacket had multiple tears, holes and scratches. His glasses were gone; his dusty blond hair stuck up in different directions, no different from England's. Blood was smeared like paint on his face. His blue eyes had a crazed look to them, as if he'd seen ghosts.

America dropped the gun. "Are you hurt?"

"America, explain to me _this_ instant-"

"I said, _are you hurt?"_

"No, we aren't. France is still in shock, though." England glanced at France, still sprawled on the ground looking utterly terrified.

"That's good." The younger nation seemed to loosen up. "That's good..."

England's eyes narrowed. He grabbed the nation's shirt collar and pulled him close. "What the hell is this place? China just disappeared without a sound, we were almost attacked, and you look a bloody fucking mess. What the fuck is going on?"

He didn't answer. Instead he bent his head, and for the first time since the Revolutionary War, the United States of America began to cry.

* * *

**x Germany x**

He could already sense that danger was approaching. He felt it in his bones and from pure instinct, from two hundred years of training his sixth sense.

"Italy, Japan!" Germany called.

The two countries turned to Germany and saluted. "Yes, sir!"

"I want the both of you to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. This place seems unnatural, so be prepared at all times."

"Okay, General!" Italy chirped. "Vee~"

"Hai...I mean, yes, sir," Japan said. "Where are we going next?"

Germany scanned the area. His eyes rested on a derelict building with a rotting wooden sign: ROOMS AND BAR. "There."

**xXx**

Inside, the air was musty and heavy with the scent of stale beer. A few chairs were knocked over, along with some crookedly placed tables, as if there had been a fight. Behind a counter some old glasses and bottles scattered, most of them broken. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

"This place is old..." Germany said aloud. A poster on the wall advertised for a diner.

"Germany," Japan called, "I'll be looking upstairs."

"Tell me if you find anything," Germany instructed. Japan nodded and left for the second floor.

A splatter of blood stained the wall opposite from the poster; more blood covered the floor in front of it. It mustn't have been from something good. There were more bloodstains not far from the first one, drops of blood leading to the bloodstains. A rusting bullet was buried deep in the center of the stain. Broken bottles lay everywhere.

Germany closed his eyes and tried to imagine what had happened. There was an argument of some sort; a fight had quickly ensued. The bartender probably took out a gun and shot one of the people in the room, according to the alarming number of shattered glasses near the counter. A scene came to life...

_Mary, the bartender, came out from behind the counter, knocking over a few glasses while doing so. As she took out a gun, some customers began to yell. John, her coworker, stood opposite from the poster and shouted for her to calm down, but she shot him. Blood sprayed out from his back, splattering the wall. He then fell, creating the stain on the floor. Another coworker rushed over to help John, then ran towards Mary, but he was also shot. The coworker stumbled backwards, dripping blood and slumped against the wall, thus creating the second bloodstain._

"G-Germany?" Italy stammered, bringing the German out of his thoughts. "T-This picture is scaring me..."

Germany opened his eyes. Italy was standing near the stairs, where a picture was taped to the wall. Germany walked over to him and took a look.

Painted in vivid detail, it showed a man hung in the middle of an empty room. His face was handsome enough. He was dressed in rich clothes, of a long coat, shiny black shoes, and dark trousers. His face was devoid of any expression, but the pale, lifeless gray eyes stared at the floor. They were empty. Dead.

But what was most disturbing about the painting was that, if you looked closer, you could see a young girl of only five, perhaps, standing barefoot behind the man. She wore a white night gown and her face was shadowed. In her left hand she held a rope that extended from the ceiling. It looked like she was the one who hung him.

"I wonder what the meaning of this picture is," Germany said, thinking.

"I-It's v-very s-scary, d-don't you think?" Italy said, eyes wide with fear.

Germany turned away from the picture. "Let's forget about that for the meantime and go find Japan."

"O-Okay..."

The two nations headed upstairs, where they were met with a long corridor. Doors were on both sides, each labeled with different numbers.

"Japan?" Germany called. "Japan, where are you?"

No answer.

"Japan!" Germany called again, louder this time. "Answer me!"

Silence.

"W-Why isn't he answering?" Italy seemed to be getting more and more frightened.

_Thump._

Germany froze. "What was that?"

"I th-think it's coming from this room," Italy said, and pointed to No. 134. The door was unlocked, so the two countries went in.

All that was inside was an empty bedframe and a desk. Germany went inside the bathroom and stumbled backwards.

The floor was covered in dark blood, just like the walls downstairs. Germany was beginning to get sick from all the blood. There were splatters on the bathroom walls, too. He headed in deeper and looked inside the bathtub.

Germany gasped. "Ch-China?"

The Asian country had a gag over his mouth. His arms and legs were bound tightly with rope, so he couldn't move or speak. But China's ebony eyes were large and full of terror. He seemed to be looking at something behind Germany.

"Mmmph!" China struggled to talk against his gag. "Gmuny, ehind yoo!"

Germany whirled around and came face-to-face with a monster. The thing could've once been human. The structure was still there, but the flesh was rotting off the bones. The thing's eyes were missing, so all that was left were empty sockets. It was dressed in dirty rags. The monster opened its mouth and moaned. It raised its axe and swiped down at Germany.

Germany moved out of the way just in time, so the blade only scraped the skin of his left ear. He brought out his whip and swung at the monster, or _zombie_.

"G-Germany?" Italy's voice said from outside the bathroom, rising slowly in volume as Italy approached the fight. "Germany, I heard noises..."

Italy stopped mid-sentence and stared at the zombie. "W-What's-"

"Italy, RUN!" Germany yelled, as the monster turned towards the second nation. Italy backed away.

"B-But I can't leave you here alone..." Italy squeaked.

"I DON'T CARE!" Germany roared. "Scheiße, JUST GET OUT OF HERE!"

Germany lunged for the monster before it reached Italy and began strangling it with his whip. It gripped at the country's neck, making it hard for him to breathe.

Italy didn't move.

"ITALY! I SAID **NOW**!"

Italy turned and ran out of the room. Germany calmed down a little when he heard the nation's footsteps fading away. He pried the zombie's hands away and took its head off with a sharpened stick.

The thing collapsed and disintegrated into black slime. Germany dropped both the whip and the stick, panting. He quickly undid China's bounds, but felt his conscious leaving him due to the fight and horrible smell of blood.

"We...need...to escape..." Germany muttered, before falling under.

* * *

**x Romano x**

"That fucking fratello," Romano muttered to himself as he walked to America's house. "Where the hell could he have gone? He's making me so damn worried."

Romano reached the house and went straight to the living room, to get it over with. What he didn't expect to find was Spain sprawled on the ground on his stomach. Wet, sticky blood pooled from Spain's head.

"What the hell? Spain!" Romano knelt and began to shake the older nation violently. "Dammit, Spain, answer me!"

Spain groaned and rolled over on his back. "R-Romano?"

Romano sat back, unwanted tears spilling from his eyes. "You're not dead..."

"Are you happy about that?" Spain smiled weakly.

Romano blushed a deep red. "Sh-Shut up, you bastard! I was just relieved you could help me find that idiot brother of mine."

"Okay, whatever you say." Spain felt the wound on his head. "I think I was hit by something. My head really hurts..."

"You're injured, what do you think?" Romano stood. "Wait here. I'll go get something to wrap you up."

Spain was right. All of America's personal stuff was gone. He knew that something very bad had happened to Italy, but he didn't dare think about it.

In the bedroom, he tore off a piece of cloth from the sheets and ran back to Spain.

"Wrap yourself up," Romano said. Spain sat up and did his best wrapping his wound.

After Spain felt a little better, he showed Romano the symbol on the wall.

"What do you think this means?" Spain asked. They both stared at it.

"S & W...do you think that could stand for something important?" Romano asked.

"Maybe..." Spain sighed. "I guess we better take a picture of it and show it to the others."

"I'll go get the camera...you brought one, right?"

"I happened to leave mine in the meeting room. Can you go get it?"

"Get it yourself, bastard," Romano said. He tended to swear a lot when he was worried about something.

"One favor?" Spain asked.

"Fine," Romano growled. Wanting to find his fratello as soon as possible, he ran to the room, retrieved the device, then ran back just as quickly. Unfortunately, he slipped and lurched forward. Romano's hand brushed the symbol.

There was a sudden blast of light, which soon faded to darkness.

"Ugh...where's the switch?" Romano said.

"Hmm...let me see..." Spain suddenly yelped. "Ouch! Did I trip over something? But there was nothing on the floor...ah, there you go."

The lights flickered on. "So, what now-" Romano stopped, and for a reason. Both nations just stared.

All of America's things had returned. It looked just as it had before Spain left the house. He had tripped over Mr. Pillow, what America grabbed on to whenever he watched a horror movie. Well, Romano had his own tomato plushie, so he couldn't say America was childish.

"What the..." Spain muttered. "Santo mierda, what _happened_?"

"I don't know..." Romano frowned. "Do you think it was because I touched that red symbol thing?"

"What!? Why did you touch it?"

"It wasn't my fucking fault! I slipped, okay?"

"Who told you to run so fast?"

"Shut up! Anyways, do you think they're back, too?"

"I don't hear their voices from here..." Spain furrowed his brow. "Hmm, that's strange. Why is it getting dark all of a sudden?"

The Spanish went to the window and peeked outside. He swallowed hard. "Romano, you should take a look at this."

Romano walked over to Spain and looked outside. "HOLY CRAPPOLA!"

He thought he'd be glancing out at a normal American neighborhood with New York skyscrapers in the distance, but all he saw was a desert where the sun peeked out from the horizon.

"Let's go outside," Spain said, and Romano nodded.

His brother might be here, after all.

* * *

**x America x**

He shouldn't be crying, not in a place like this. It wasn't right for a 236-year old nation to cry.

Yet he let the tears fall; he didn't resist when England loosened his grip and instead held his little brother closer, not even when France finally regained sanity and told them to stop releasing sexual tensions. It just felt too good to not be the hero, to instead be in someone's arms, to be cared for, protected,_ loved_.

But America pulled away eventually, wiping at his eyes, but the tears, oh the tears just won't goddamn stop because he knew everything was so wrong and China was probably dying and he could do nothing about it. "Dammit, _why_..."

England stepped forward to take America in his arms again, but the younger nation moved away.

"I know you're scared, America," England said softly. "This probably all some sort of nightmare, but everything will okay, alright? Everything will be okay..."

"Stop it!" America yelled, back to sobbing again. "Just shut up! You don't understand anything! This isn't all some fucking dream, England! This is _real_, not one of your stupid fairy tales. It's my fault we're trapped here...I'm so sorry..."

America fell to his knees and covered his face with his hand, sobs racking his body. "I'm sorry..."

He thought it would be England. But it was France who dragged him to his feet and gave him a stinging slap across his face.

America stared at the Frenchman. "France...?"

"Get a hold of yourself, America," France said angrily. "Why do call yourself a hero if you can be broken this easily? That's not the America I know."

America looked away. "You haven't seen what I've seen, France."

"I don't care! I just want to get out of this town. It doesn't matter whose fault it is...America, look at me. _Look at me_."

America stared into those pools of blue and calmed down a little. France had his hands on both sides of America's face, but it didn't feel perverted.

"We are getting out of here," France said slowly, and let go. "Now let's go find the Axis people."

He nodded weakly and followed the two older countries down the street. After a while they found a lone person walking in front of them. His curl told them his identity.

"Italy!" England shouted. "We're over here!"

Italy turned, but instead of smiling his usual happy smile, he ignored America and England and glared at France.

France looked confused. "Italy, what's wrong?"

Italy took a deep breath.

"Is it true that you killed Holy Rome?"

* * *

**I think you've all guessed that I love cliffhangers now. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed the story~**

**Reviews are like oxygen for writers. It keeps them going.**

******FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

**Love,**

**~Anna~**


	5. Italy Learns the Truth

**Hi guys! Thanks for the reviews and follows! And favorites! *hands out M&M's***

**Recently, I started to write with music, or experience different story moods with different music. It's AWESOME, actually. For example, I'd read/write a sad fanfic while listening to sad music. It made me tear up. **

**So, I'll start recommending music for my chapters from now on. For the HRE part, I think HetaOni: Even If You Feel Sad is perfect. I tested it. :D **

**Thanks again for the support for BOTH Hetalia fanfics, guys! You really made my day. ^^**

**ENJOY, FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

* * *

**x CHaPter FoUr x**

**.x. Prussia .x.**

If the awesome Prussia had not gone to the meeting, he wouldn't be trapped in this shithole of a place. To make things even more unawesome, he stuck with Russia and Canada. In other words, the creep and the invisible. How much worse could it get?

Well, for one thing, they could be attacked by a house. Yes, you heard him right: a freaking house. How in the world did that happen? It all began when Canada found America's glasses.

Everything was going well. Russia seemed like he was in a really bad mood; Canada looked scared, squeezing that bear of his in a tight hug until it yelped. And Gilbird won't shut up. Sure, Prussia loved the little thing, but it was still a _bird_. And birds chirped a lot when they were mad/anxious.

_Tweet, tweet_, Gilbird chirped. _Tweet tweet._

A short pause.

_Tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet._

Another pause.

_Tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet_

"Be quiet!" Prussia snapped. "You're not Twitter, you are a bird."

_Tweet?_ Gilbird looked at him questioningly.

"Argh...forget it."

"Hey, look," Canada said, pointing at something on the ground.

"What is it, Canada?" Russia asked.

Canada knelt and picked it up. It was a pair of dirty glasses, the lens caked with dried blood.

"Th-These are America's g-glasses," Canada said, fingers trembling. "W-Why is it covered in blood?"

"Maybe your brother dearest tripped and broke his nose," Prussia suggested.

"Or could something have attacked him?" Russia said thoughtfully. "It doesn't smell like his blood."

"How do you know what his blood smells like?" Prussia asked. Ah...on a second thought, he didn't really want to find out.

"I've fought plenty of wars with America," Russia replied, smiling slightly. "I've come to recognize the smell."

"Russia, I think you might be right," Canada said shakily. "I mean...America doesn't normally just forget his glasses. They're really important to him."

"What? How could something...attack him?" Prussia shivered at the thought. "I mean, this is an empty town, right?"

Canada looked around. "I guess we'll have to find out, eh?" The nation's eyes rested on one of the buildings. "That one looks suspicious...maybe he's in there?"

"That is very random guess, you know," Prussia said uncertainly. "He could be anywhere."

"We'll never know if we don't go see for ourselves," Canada pointed out.

The two nations reluctantly followed Canada inside.

**xXx**

The first thing the nations heard when they stepped inside was footsteps.

"W-Why do I hear someone walking upstairs?" Prussia said. Gilbird chirped for emphasis.

"There might be someone waiting to kill us," Russia said. He wasn't smiling, which was not a good thing.

"D-Don't say things like that!" Canada, like the other two nations, was already beginning to sweat. There was something eerie about the house, as if they were being watched. "We'll stick together, okay?"

The three entered the hallway. Large paintings were hung on both sides, mostly portraits of men and women dressed in old-fashioned clothes. About in the middle of the hallway, something rose from the ground and snaked around Prussia's right ankle, tripping him. "Ah! What the..."

The wooden floor beneath Prussia's feet gave away, revealing a gaping hole. Prussia was dragged under. On a closer inspection, it looked like a vine of some sort. A moving vine, that is. He dangled in mid air for a few seconds, while fumbling for his sword.

Prussia brought it out of its scabbard and hacked at the vine. The thing lashed at his face, creating angry red marks on his cheeks. He was able to cut himself loose before the vine snatched his weapon away. Prussia tumbled downwards, landing with a hard crash.

"Prussia!" Canada called from above, looking down the hole. "Are you alright?"

"I don't think so, but I'm breathing," Prussia answered. "Agh...I think I sprained my ankle..."

"Hold on, we'll go find something to pull you up," Russia said. There was the sound of footsteps fading away.

Prussia felt around in the darkness. He assumed he was in an underground room. There were stacked crates and what felt like empty glass bottles everywhere. His fingers brushed something made of metal lying on the floor.

_Hmm_, Prussia thought. _Could it be..._ He picked up the object._ ...a key?_

"I'm back!" Canada voice called. "Grab on to this." A rope Prussia guessed was made of curtains tied together was thrown down. They pulled him back to ground level. Prussia winced at the pain in his ankle.

"Can you walk?" Canada asked in that soft voice of his.

"Of course the awesome me can walk," Prussia said. "Don't worry about me." He looked around. "By the way, where did Russia go?"

"I don't know," Canada said, his eyebrows furrowed. "He wanted to search for some supplies we can use."

A loud thump was heard from one of the rooms, then the sound of a pickaxe.

Canada's eyes widened. "That's coming from the room Russia is in. I think he's in trouble."

* * *

**.x. Italy .x.**

Italy ran from the room, praying that Germany would be okay. Oh why was this happening? They were supposed to find their way out of the desert and return home safely, not be attacked by scary zombie things. Everything was turning out just like Japan's RPG, HetaOni.

Outside, the sky was dark, but not quite. Italy ran from the horrible place, wanting to find the other countries and warn them about what happened to Germany. He slowed to a walk to catch his breath, crying the whole time. _Please let Germany be okay..._

Other than his own sobs, he could faintly make out another sound. Was someone else shedding tears, too? Italy followed the sound to a small alleyway, where he saw a small girl sitting in the dark. She was sitting with her back against the wall, her knees tucked under her chin. The little girl looked about five or six. She was crying, just like Italy.

"_Bambina_, what's wrong?" Italy wiped away his own tears and knelt to face the girl. "Why are you crying, ve?"

The girl sniffed and gazed up at him with large grey eyes. "H-Huh? What are you doing here, mister?"

_She looks so cute!_ Italy thought. "I happened to pass by this town while walking in the desert."

"Oh...well, my friend went away; he said he'd come back for me but he never did, and now he's dead!" She began to cry again.

"Oh, I'm so sorry..." Italy thought her story sounded strangely familiar to his own childhood. He smiled. "Did you know I also had a friend just like yours?"

"R-Really?"

"Yeah! His name was Holy Roman Empire, but he went away to fight in the war, and he never came back. But I know he will, someday."

"How do you he'll come back?" the girl asked, tilting her head.

"I just do! He's very special to me, after all."

"I see..." The girl pondered for a moment, before saying, "You know, I have this really strange gift I use to see things far away."

"Wow. Do you think you can see Holy Rome?"

"Hmm...I'll try."

A short moment later, Italy's vision dimmed and he entered another place.

_Under the dark, stormy sky, two countries stood facing each other. The rain was pouring down at them in buckets, but neither of them noticed. Their eyes were focused on each other. The taller one had shoulder-length blond hair in a loose ponytail. The other was barely a man yet...but he had many, many battle scars all over his body._

_Italy gasped. "Holy...Holy Rome?"_

_He ran towards the nation, but none of them seemed to notice him. Italy looked closer at the blond. "Are you...France? Why aren't you helping Holy Rome! He's wounded!" Italy yelled in France's face, but France stared through him._

_"Yield yourself to me!" France demanded. "And I will grant you mercy."_

_"Never!" Holy Rome cried. He raised his sword and charged, but stumbled because of his injured ankle. "Curses..."_

_"I don't want to do this," France said softly. "Please...just stop."_

_"I can't, I have to win this war," Holy Rome said, struggling to his feet. "I have to..." He charged at France again, and almost stabbed the older nation through the heart, but France knocked the blade away and drove his own sword through Holy Rome's chest._

_Time seemed to stop. Holy Rome's eyes were wide with surprise. Blood spilled out of the wound._

_"No!" Italy shrieked._

_Time sped up again. France let go of the hilt and stared back with equal surprise. "I didn't...mean to...I'm sorry..."_

_France knelt by the smaller nation as he collapsed into the grass. He seemed to check for a pulse, but stood when it seemed that there was no hope. Looking terribly distraught, France whispered, "I'm sorry...Holy Roman Empire."_

_The nation walked away._

_Italy ran to Holy Rome's side and tried to help him, but his hands just passed through everything, as if he were a ghost. "No, no, no..."_

_Holy Rome coughed weakly._

_"D-Don't leave me," Italy cried. His vision blurred as hot wet tears ran down his cheeks. "D-Don't b-break your p-promise..."_

_"Italy?" Holy Rome whispered. "Is that you?"_

_"Holy Rome? Holy Rome! You can see me?"_

_The dying nation smiled sadly. "You're not actually here with me, but I can feel your presence. Isn't that strange?"_

_"N-No, I'm really here! Just look at me, please..."_

_Holy Rome sighed softly, as his eyes began to close. "I'm...I'm sorry I cannot be with you...Italy."_

_Italy's vision dimmed._

He found himself back at the town again.

Silence.

"So, did you see what happened?" the girl asked. "I hope I helped you!"

Italy didn't answer.

"Are you okay, mister?"

"Who...are you?" Italy asked, his face shadowed.

The girl seemed surprised at the question. She smiled sadly. "My name is Whisper."

* * *

**.x. France .x.**

Italy continued to glare at France, waiting for his reply.

_I can't tell him_, France thought._ He would be broken for life._

"O-Of course not!" France lied. "Where did you get that idea?"

Italy's whole body seemed to relax. He looked away. "Nowhere."

**xXx**

After that, Italy returned to his normal self, then frantically told them about Germany. The three nations followed Italy to the hotel he was talking about, but stopped on the way, because...

"Help!" a soft voice called from a window. "France? America? We're here!"

France looked around for the source of the voice. His eyes stopped on Canada, who was waving frantically from a window.

"We should help them first," England decided. "Germany and Japan are both strong enough to take care of themselves."

Everyone agreed, so they went inside to find Canada. In the hallway, some kind of vine thing almost grabbed America, but he jumped away at the last second.

They found Canada in one of the rooms. Prussia sat on a bed, with Russia laying next to him. The Russian's eyes were closed.

"Oh...you're here," Prussia said, panting. The former nation was covered with sweat. He had a large, sickly wound on his leg, all purple and red. "How's West, Italy?"

"I'm sure he's doing fine!" Italy said, smiling. "But...what happened to you guys?"

"Russia was attacked in this room," Canada explained. "Prussia managed to fight off the enemy...but I couldn't do anything to help."

"You didn't have to," Prussia said. "I mean, the awesome Prussia drove it away, didn't he?" Prussia laughed weakly.

"What about Russia?" America asked quietly, speaking for the first time since France's outburst. "Is he okay?"

Canada looked down at the floor, tears welling up. "Russia didn't make it, America. He's dead."

* * *

**Now I feel bad. :( Russia isn't that bad, but no...I'm not THAT evil, either. The story gets more and more interesting...eventually. **

**Hope you used the song! ^^**

**FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

**Love,**

**~Anna~**


	6. Death

**NOOOOOO! I haven't updated in so long! After school started, I began to get REALLY busy, with tests and homework and blah blah blah. Ugh. So it was basically one paragraph per night.**

**And for my other story. After I posted the 8th chapter for my Hetalympics story, I felt kinda guilty, because it was poorly written. And short. :( I guess I needed to do the horse-riding sometime (I'm doing every sport), but I don't have much interest in horses, so...yeah. I'll present to you guys an extra long, more humorous chapter next time to make up for it. Please don't be mad! ^^"**

**So, about this story. Well, there's been a lot of crying going on. Heck, it's even making me feel depressed. I'll try to make my chapters a bit lighter. Humor brightens everything. :)**

**And the song is Friendship, again from HetaOni, because I love HetaOni music. It rocks so much. ;u; This song applies for most of the chapter.**

**Last but definitely NOT least, ENJOY~**

* * *

** x Chapter 6 x**

**.x. Spain .x.**

"Hey, Romano?" Spain asked, as they walked through the desert.

"What?"

"Do you remember that time when you fell off your bed and broke your arm? You had to stay in bed for a week."

"So what? Everyone has accidents."

Spain smiled. "You begged me to stay with you the whole time. The first night, you asked to sleep together."

Romano blushed, glaring at his companion. "I-I did not! I didn't mean it, anyway."

"Whatever you say." Spain sighed. "Sometimes I really miss the old days."

"Why would you? All you cared about was my stupid fratello."

"I liked Italy well enough, but you were my little tomato." Out of habit, Spain reached over and ruffled Romano's hair.

"S-Stop that!" Romano blushed harder. "Don't touch me! Chigi!"

"But you look so cute when your face is red! Oh, look, what is this?"

The two stared at the silent town in front of them. With the evening shadows lurking in the corners and edges, the town looked like something out of a horror movie.

"W-What the hell is this place?" Romano shivered. "It's creeping me out..."

"I think the town name is 'Silent Whisper'," Spain said, reading a sign nearby. "Odd name, don't you think?"

"Y-Yeah..." Romano gulped when the wind suddenly howled, blasting their faces with hot summer air. "D-Do you really think this is a good idea?"

Spain frowned, thinking. "Well, Italy and the others might be here. We really have no choice but to go in."

**xXx**

After a few turns here and there, the monster appeared.

It was about the size of a baby elephant, with large black holes for eyes and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Scales covered its body, its long tail spiked at the end.

"D-Do something, dammit!" Romano yelled. He backed away from the monster.

"I don't know what to do, either!" Spain said frantically. "I think we should just...RUN!"

The monster suddenly charged at them, hissing and spitting venom. It splattered on Spain's shirt, burning a hole through the fabric.

They ducked into an alleyway. The monster charged past, unaware that they were gone.

"T-That was close," Spain said. "Santa meirda, what was that thing?"

"I don't know, but this place is dangerous," Romano said. His face was chalk white and he breathed in little huffs. The Italian's hands were shaking. Spain didn't like seeing his churro scared.

"Are...are you okay?" Spain asked.

"Of course not, you bastard!" Romano sighed angrily. "Let's just find my brother and the rest and go home."

A moment passed.

"Romano?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you're here with me."

Instead of his usual harsh retort, Romano reddened and mumbled, "Y-Yeah...me too..."

Despite their situation, Spain suppressed a smile. "I didn't hear you."

"Sh-Shut up! You _did_ hear me."

"Okay, fine. But I'm glad anyway." In the dark of the alley, Spain felt a hand curl around his.

"I'm...I'm scared..." Romano whispered.

"Don't be. I'm here." He squeezed Romano's hand. "I'll always be here, right next to you."

**x...x...x...x...x...x...x**

**Sweet moment. :3 So, I'm not much of a yaoi fan, but I guess you could call it fluff if you want. I could do a little yaoi, so you can request them in a PM or review. :)**

**Okay. ON with the story.**

**x...x...x...x...x...x...x**

**.x. Japan .x.**

(I bet y'all was wondering what happened to him ;) )

After the last creature was killed, Japan dropped his blood covered katana and leaned against the wall, breathing hard.

He hoped Germany and Italy didn't face the same challenges he did. Something told him his hopes were shattered, though. Japan also received an empty feeling, like part of him was missing. It wasn't good news.

Shivering from the unnatural cold air in the room, Japan put his hands in his pockets. Something nudged against the fingers on his right hand. He pulled out the object. A shriveled plum flower rested in his palm.

Where was it from? He could not remember. Japan knew it was from a long time ago...perhaps almost a century? He also knew it had a meaning. That it wasn't just some plant that happened to be in his pocket.

Why couldn't he remember?

A nearby crash brought him out of his thoughts. A frantic voice followed the crash. It sounded like...China? Japan grabbed his katana and followed the sound to another room. He found China kneeling over someone in the bathroom.

"What happened, China?" Japan asked.

China looked up. "Oh, thank God you're here. Germany lost consciousness, and he won't wake up!"

Japan frowned, thinking. "Let me see what I can do."

He picked up a pail in the corner and filled it with water, as the sink surprisingly still worked. _This is rude and against Japanese custom, but also an emergency. Gomenasai, Germany._ Japan dumped the harshly cold water all over Germany's face.

Germany's eyes flew open and he gasped, sitting up. "Italy...did he...is he...monster...kill..."

"I am sure Italy is alright," Japan assured the frantic nation. He took a good look around the blood stained bathroom. "I see you also encountered the same fate as I."

Germany leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths before answering. "Yes, a monster came after me. By the way, how did you end up here, China?"

China knit his eyebrows together. "To tell the truth, I don't remember, aru. I somehow blacked out, and when I woke up I was here."

"Someone must be behind all this," Germany said. "We need to find the others and leave this place."

"I'm ready when you are," China said. "Also, please put away that sword, Japan. It's all bloody and freaking me out, aru."

"It is called a katana," Japan said defensively, but did as China said.

The three countries made their way out of the hotel without running into anymore creatures. Again Japan felt for the plum flower, hoping for a memory to form.

A scene flashed in his mind. He was with someone. He couldn't make out her face, but he knew, somehow, that she was a country, just like him. They were standing under a plum tree. The girl was blushing and scowling at the same time. She suddenly stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek, stuffing a flower in his hand. The nation ran off, leaving him more confused than ever.

"Japan, did you hear me? I asked you where you think England's group might be." Germany was waving a hand in his face.

Japan blinked. "Oh...I am sorry, Germany. I was thinking about some things."

"We'll just listen for any noises, aru," China said. "Opium and France's bickering can be heard from miles away."

Japan nodded. He wasn't really paying attention, though. Because he just might have remembered who it was in his memory.

Could it be...?

**.x. America .x. **

Russia was dead.

The commie was truly gone. America had felt for a pulse, tried to shake the nation, even going as far as doing CPR, but nothing worked. The Russia lay limp on the bed, his skin even paler than before, his violet eyes dead.

_Nations can't die._ Those words sounded fake, just like the propaganda America sometimes fed to his people to calm them down in desperate times.

It never was true, after all.

In other times, America might have been a little happy if the Russian nation fell. It would mean that years of hatred and rivalry would end. No more deadlock wars, no more becoming one with Mother Russia.

But there were also times where America couldn't bring himself to hate Russia. In the crisis of September 11th, Russia was the one that stayed with him until his pain ended, that helped his country recover from its loss. No matter how cruel or evil the nation could be, he was still a nation, a member of the G8 and part of humanity.

He was still a living, breathing person with feelings.

So why did Russia have to lose his life?

America didn't know how long he sat next to Russia, wishing that everything was just a damn nightmare and they'd all wake up to a world where Russia was cruel, sadistic, evil, but alive. The younger nation didn't shed anymore tears, yet he cried inside. America couldn't understand how he could stay so calm while a storm raged inside him, wild and cold, full of despair.

"America," England said, after what seemed like only minutes. "We have to go. It's already been an hour."

America looked up finally and realized he and England were the only ones in the room. "W-Where..." He cleared his throat so he didn't sound like Canada. "Where are the others?"

"They're looking for a place to spend the night." England walked over and sat next to America on the bed. "America, you have to know that Russia's not coming back."

"He's a nation," America said stubbornly. "Nations can't die unless their country does."

"Apparently this isn't the case, because he sure doesn't look alive to me," England said flatly.

America jumped up from the bed and faced England, a raw anger overwhelming the storm. "Don't you even _care_? Don't you even care that a nation is gone? He's _gone_, England! In this fucking world, there won't ever be another Russia!"

"I never meant it like that. I am only stating the truth-"

America laughed, a horrible cynical laugh that even scared him, somewhere deep inside. "I bet you're _glad_ he's dead. Being the fucking _gentleman_ you are-"

England stood also, his face red. "You bloody wanker! Have you taken a look around you yet? You're not the only one who's a mess!"

"But I'm the only one who cares! Russia is lying here dead and they all just scrammed, without even a burial or something to honor him. They're probably _laughing_ right now, since they don't have to deal with the son of a bitch anymore. And even you can't wait to join them-"

England slapped him.

It was much harder than France's slap. Unlike France, England didn't hold back any of his strength. Unlike France, it wasn't the kind of slap a brother would give his younger sibling. It was a strike that could start a fight not between two brothers, but as separate nations. Enemies.

A terrible silence formed.

America was breathing hard. He lifted his hand to his left cheek, where it was already beginning to swell.

England's mouth was open in surprise. "I'm...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..."

Without warning, America slammed into England, pushing the nation up against the wall.

"You can't hurt me," America growled, as he choked England. "I am a _nation_. Not your fucking little brother. Do you know what I can do?"

"A..mer...ic...a," England rasped. "Listen...to me..."

The younger nation just tightened his grip. "Are you fucking listening!? I don't have to do what you say. Don't...touch...me..._again_."

England did something unexpected. He sang.

_'In sleep...he sang to me...in dreams...he...came...'_

America's grip on England loosened. He knew that tune, those lyrics.

_'That voice...which calls...to me...and speaks my name...'_

The superpower's eyes widened. His hands shook ever so slightly.

_'And do...I dream...again? For...now I find...'_

He closed his eyes.

_'Phantom...of the Opera...is there inside my mind.'_

A tear traced its way down America's swollen cheek.

_'Phantom...of the...Opera...is there inside my mind.'_

He let go of England completely, letting the nation slump to the floor.

"I'm sorry, my poppet," England whispered, his brilliant green eyes shiny with unshed tears. He pulled America close. "I'm sorry."

* * *

**I feel so horrible now. D: It was actually kind of unexpected, so what I REALLY planned was Russia died, America was sad. That's it. Ah well. I love their relationship (STRICTLY BROMANCE, but you can call it fluff if you want). It's just so sweet I couldn't help writing that scene.**

**Chapter's over, guys. Thanks for reading! ^^**

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**Nah, just kidding. I'm not that cruel. There's more. Of course there's more. :)**

**ENJOY~**

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**.x. Russia .x.**

Ironically, he was the first to die.

Russia had always assumed it would be France, or maybe Italy. But of all people, it had to be _him_.

Death had arrived quite quickly. While Russia was looking around for any useful supplies, something came out of the closet and strangled him. Russia defended himself with his pickaxe, but suffocated anyways in the end.

Then he entered utter and complete darkness. Just like in books or movies, he saw his life flash by before his death. When he appeared somewhere in Russia, as a newborn nation. When he met Lithuania. When he grew older and realized he had two sisters, Belarus and Ukraine. When he dominated Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, and became rivals with the USA.

When he arrived at the ghost town.

Russia wanted to move around in the darkness, but his arms had given up on him. He couldn't even feel himself. It felt as if he was detached from his body.

Russia began to panic. Death wasn't supposed to be like this. He wouldn't have to spend all of his afterlife in this...this empty black void, would he?

And he still couldn't understand just how he managed to die. Nations were supposedly immortal, invincible. Their "Achilles's foot" was their country, not them.

_'Hello, Russia.'_

_What was that?_ Russia thought. _Did someone just speak...?_

_'I am sorry for your inconvenience, but it was all part of the plan.'_

Russia wished he could speak. _My 'inconvenience'?_ Russia thought angrily. _My INCONVENIENCE? Whoever's speaking just took my life!_

_'Yes, I said I was sorry.'_

_...You can hear my thoughts?_

_'Yes.'_

_Then explain yourself. Why did I die? What is going to happen to my nation?_

_'Your nation will be fine. But you have one more shot at life.'_

_What is it? Tell me now._

The voice seemed to chuckle._ 'Do you want to hear a little secret?'_

_Hurry up. I don't have time to play your games, I need to get back to the others._

_'Hmm...I see you're worrying quite a lot about the man with a ponytail. China, is that his name?'_

You have nothing to do with my personal life. What is it you want to say?

Silence.

Russia was beginning to get impatient. _Speak already!_

_'...Are you sure you want to know?'_

_Yes, just tell me before I lose my patience._

_'...'_

_...?_

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_'...America killed you, Russia. He is the one who has to pay.'_

* * *

**Ohonhonhon! Will Russia believe "The Voice"?**

**Anyway, this chapter is really over now. I hope you used the music. Trust me, you HAVE TO. It makes everything...well, somehow more beautiful and all that. So if you didn't, scroll to the top and read it again, WITH the music this time. Or at least just the Spamano or USUK parts. :D**

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**Did you do it? Did you? Good, if you did. If you didn't...never mind. At least you're reading my story. :D**

**Sooo, I will continue this story (obviously)and my Hetalympics one (when I have time...). Thanks for reading!**

***ACCEPTING REQUESTS***

**FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

**Love,**  
**~Anna~**


	7. Night Shadows

**Man, HetaOni music rocks. So freaking much. **

**Sooo, since I'll be going to Macau tomorrow, I'm uploading the seventh chapter. It's a filler chap, but the next chapter will be very, very interesting, I promise you.**

**No music for this one, you can pick your own. :/**

**ENJOY~**

* * *

**x ChApteR sEvEN x**

**.x. Canada .x.**

He didn't mind being invisible. He really didn't.

It was a special affinity, too; you could sneak up on people, spy on your enemies, perform pranks...the possibilities were endless. If he lived a whole day through stark naked, he doubted anyone would notice.

But sometimes Canada was sick of it. He _envied_ his brother, who stood out like a light in the dark. An obnoxious light, but he existed, nonetheless.

He walked behind Prussia, Italy, France and England, again melting into the shadows. Canada just couldn't understand. Was he really that invisible? The only one who barely noticed him was America, but America had his own problems to deal with.

Because of their tie as brothers, Canada always had a special connection to America. It wasn't like he could hear his thoughts, but rather feel his emotions, or sense the obvious changes in attitude. Ever since they'd arrived in the desert, Canada had sensed that America was hiding something, something _big_. Canada felt familiar with this place, even though he was positive he had never been here before. The only logical conclusion was that it was _America's_ emotions he was feeling.

And after Russia's death...things weren't going too well with his brother. First he'd sensed a sort of confusion, then regret and guilt, then sadness, and then something Canada was too scared to think of. Crazed anger, maybe?

He really hoped America was doing okay.

**xXx**

Even though the sky was pitch black and dotted with bright stars, the air was still hot and heavy with the scent of dust. Sweat made his shirt stick to his skin. Canada wiped at his forehead, jittery at the thought that there was something lurking in every shadow, waiting to jump out.

They'd already found Japan, Germany and China, and were now waiting for England and America in a seemingly harmless (was anything harmless here?)house at the edge of the town. Germany had searched through every inch of the house with Japan and found nothing threatening. The place was large enough, with a fireplace (Germany had brought matches)and a well just outside the backdoor.

China paced around, his eyes blank and sad. England tended to the fire; Italy and Japan prepared dinner, making sure not to waste too much of their rations; they had enough food to last for only four days. Prussia sat against the wall with his hands cushioning his head. Germany guarded the locked door, his arms crossed. The place was silent.

"Well, this is nice," Canada said, at a weak attempt to raise everyone's spirits.

No one answered. Canada sighed. They probably weren't being rude, just that they didn't hear him.

After about an hour, everyone had eaten, yet America and England still weren't back. Canada shifted in his chair anxiously. Had something gone wrong?

And then ten minutes later, they heard voices outside. Canada jumped up in relief and rushed to the door. Prussia managed to crack a smile.

He threw open the door. "Oh maple, I was wondering what happened to you g-"

Canada stopped mid-sentence, gaping at the two figures. Italy and France came up from behind. "Ve? What's wrong, Canadia?" Italy asked.

"It's...it's..." Canada stammered.

"Spain and Romano," France whispered.

* * *

**.x. England .x.**

It had begun to rain. Little drops at first, until it was pouring, so much that it was hard to see anything three feet away.

England hated this kind of weather. It reminded him of America and his stupid independence, of the Revolutionary War that left a scarred him for life, physically and mentally. It rained a lot in the UK, but this sort of rain was different. This rain felt heavy, thick with gloom. The rhythm was slow and sad.

America walked in front of him, lost in the misty rain. England couldn't help but think of that night again, when his former colony walked away from him, without another word. It had been so _unlike_ the America he knew, who (pretended to)loved his cooking and was always over-cheery, loud, and immature. The war America had looked so determined and bitter, looking down at England with pity.

"America," England called.

No answer. "America!"

"What do you want?" America snapped.

"We're here," England said, and his former colony turned to look at him.

England took a step back. Instead of their usual bright color, America's eyes were dark, so dark they seemed black in the night. They were like two pools of onyx, without a bottom and utterly, completely, empty.

* * *

**.x. Romano .x.**

The first thing Romano did when he entered was march up to Italy and give him a hard punch.

"Ow," Italy whimpered.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?" Romano glared at Italy. "And what the hell is this place? You had me so damn worried, you stupid fratello!"

Italy just smiled. "I'm so glad you're here with me, bro!" Then something seemed to strike him and the corners of his mouth drooped down. "Actually, you shouldn't be here..."

"Why? What's wrong with my presence?"

Italy shifted anxiously. "There are monsters and...and really weird things..."

Romano snorted. "Of course there are! That's why I'm here to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

He turned away, glaring at everyone, Spain by his side. "So, care to explain yourselves?"

"After the meeting ended, we exited America's house and came to a desert," Germany said. "We arrived at this town, and strange things started happening."

Romano waited for him to continue.

Germany cleared his throat. "The nine...uh, ten of us split into groups. China disappeared, but I found him in an old hotel. Prussia, Canada and Russia encountered some attacks and Russia..."

"Russia is dead," a voice said quietly from behind. Romano turned and found two countries, both soaked to the skin. Although neither of them seemed to notice it.

Romano just laughed nervously at England's words. "T-This has got to be some kind of joke, right? That bastard can't be killed that easily."

"No, but he isn't here, is he?" England pushed past Romano and Spain, heading deeper inside the house, leaving America to stand in the doorway. A short moment, then America followed, only to head upstairs. Canada ran after his brother.

Spain sighed. "At least no one else is hurt." He smiled weakly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "So, do you have any food to spare?"

* * *

**.x. China .x.**

There was something else he hadn't told the others.

What happened had brushed a touchy subject, something he rarely talked about. China wasn't sure if it was just a simple desire, or something he truly wanted.

While England and France were talking, he'd been dragged underground, through a hole that hadn't been there a moment ago.

And then he'd seen the girl.

She was wearing a simple white dress. Her eyes were a stormy gray and her hair was a pale blonde, almost yellow. She stood in the darkness, a faint light glowing around her body.

China was in some sort of underground room. He stood across from the child. She stepped closer and sat down, crossing her legs.

"Hello, China," she said.

There was something strange about her eyes, China thought. They seemed too mature for a girl her age. "How did you know my name, aru?"

"I don't know," she said, and sounded quite honest, too.

China glanced up, expecting to find an opening. But all he saw was more darkness. "How do I go back?"

She frowned. "Why are you going? Talk with me, instead."

Skeptically, China sat down in front of the girl. "What are you doing here, aru?"

"This is my home." She smiled, but it did not look like a smile; the facial expression seemed more as if someone had forced the corners of her mouth to lift. "So, do you have any dreams?"

China hesitated before answering. "No."

"My dream is to take over the world," she said, almost happily. The girl beamed. "It's such a nice thought, don't you think?"

It was a disturbing dream for a young child. "Well...of course."

"Have you ever had this dream?"

"...No."

"Really?" The girl looked surprised. "Well, that's a shame. I could help you, you know. I can make the world yours to keep. Communism everywhere! You'll have complete control."

China backed away, uncrossing his legs. "W-Why do you know so much about me?"

She gave him a playful smile. "That's a secret. Just do exactly as I say, and those countries will be gone. You can even dominate the world with Russia!"

"I...I can't betray my friends..."

"I won't make this offer twice," she said. "Are you sure?"

Anger came over him. "What is your problem, aru? Those are my friends, and what I want is none of your business!"

The girl's happy demeanor dropped, and her face darkened. "Well, be it, then. But if you don't do as I say...you will regret it. Very, very much."

That was the last thing he heard before his world turned black.

* * *

**.x. Canada .x.**

Canada climbed the wooden stairs, every step emitting a small creak or groan. He hugged Kuma tighter whenever he heard a noise out of place. Canada arrived at the top of the stairs and was met with a long, dark hallway. Jeez...why were there so many creepy corridors in this town?

He stepped forward timidly. "A...America?" Canada whispered, and realizing his brother probably couldn't hear him, raised his voice a little. "America, are you there?"

Receiving no answer, Canada decided to search for America himself. He went through all the doors without luck. Finally, at the last door on the right, he tried the doorknob and found it locked. Canada knocked softly on the door. "America, are you in there?"

He thought he heard something crash inside. Canada began to panic. "Kuma, what should I do?"

"Hmm..." Kuma thought for a moment before saying, "You can break the door open."

Canada sighed. "I guess that's the only way." He ran to one of the rooms and came out with a chair. Using all of his Canadian strength, he rammed it against the door with Kuma's help. Naturally, the rotting wood splintered, giving away. Canada ran in, saying frantically, "America! America, are you okay? I thought I heard something crash..."

His brother was sitting on the window sill, his back to Canada. The window was shattered-broken glass scattered all over the floor.

"America...?"

This time, the country heard him. America turned around. Canada started. Were America's eyes actually...black? Or was it a dark blue? Either way, Canada felt almost frightened at the sight.

America spoke.

"It's time they knew the truth."

* * *

**Yes! I can finally get to the explanation/action/goal stuff! Jeez, this story is moving on so slowly, there's probably going to be like 50 chapters or something. **

**I still like this though, and hope you like it too! ^.^**

**THANKS FOR READING!**

**ENJOY, FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

**Love,**

**~Anna~**


	8. In the Midst of Flames

**And I'm back! :D And YES, I got that A for my essay. TAKE THAT, Geirdriful (just kidding ^^)! Hopefully you got an A, too. :)**

**Sooo, here it is. The first part is sort of a history lesson, but it's important so you might as well drag through that part.**

**ENJOY, MY HOMIES~**

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**x ChApTEr eIgHT x**

**September 4th, 1849**

California was the jewel of America. Or, you could say, the gold. There were so many new gold mines, so many people made rich from all the treasures dug up in the land. This was a time when America felt pride and greed, to the point that he didn't notice his own people were suffering.

It was mostly the Native Americans. They became the victims of starvation, when the chemicals and gravel from the mines destroyed natural habitats and killed fish. Their land was stolen, taken from them as many became homeless and developed strange illnesses. The worst, however, was the violence practiced on them by miners and settlers. Unlike the white citizens' own women, the Native American women didn't have many rights, and sexual assaults on them were frequent. Over 100,000 Californian Indians were killed.

The nation's own representative was going through all the mining towns, seeing how they were doing and basically building up his already large ego.

Far away from his destination, America was expecting to hear the jeers of drunk men and singing women by now. But all he heard was a scream. When he arrived at the town, two of the sheriff's men were removing a dead body from the river, and neither seemed happy with the task.

"What happened?" America asked one of the bystanders.

"Guy found this mornin'," the man replied, chewing on a toothpick. "Gotta knife stuck in 'is back. Rumors says a woman killed 'im."

"Who, then?"

"Goes by the name of Marriane Berlow. She's somewhere 'round the edge o' town..."

**xXx**

He was surprised to find that Marriane was not an adult yet, but merely a teen. She sat huddled in the corner of her shabby house. The girl was 16 or so, with dark skin that told him she wasn't a settler or miner's daughter.

America opened the unlocked door and stared at her for a moment. "Hey, where are your parents?"

"Out," she answered shortly.

"Out where?"

"It's none of your business." She turned away from him so she was facing the wall. America noticed her shoulders were trembling.

"Did you kill that guy?"

Marriane didn't say anything. "_Did_ you?"

There was a pause, then came the answer: "Yes."

"You're a fucking _child_," America said, with scorn and anger. "And you killed a white man. What are you even doing in this town?"

"I need to live, too," said Marriane quietly. "My village was burned down and our family escaped to this town. We...we had to change our names."

"You're lucky they didn't kick you out. And then you went and killed one of my people. What kind of bitch are you?"

_"He raped me!"_ she screamed, whirling around to face him. She stood and glared at him, eyes wide. _"Look at what he did!"_

And then Marriane lifted her shirt to reveal blue and purple blotches on her stomach, as if they had been painted on by an artist. Scars and scabs ran across her arms. Scratches cut into her skin, and a hand-shaped bruise marked her wrist.

America turned away. As much disgust as he felt towards the Native Americans, a small part of him felt guilty. Weren't they living here before the white settlers? Weren't they also Americans?

Didn't he use to be one of them, and bore a different name?

But this wasn't the time of the Indians. This was a new age. America was getting stronger, and the Natives were only going to get in the way.

"Leave," he said finally.

"W-What do you mean?" she asked.

"Leave this town, and don't come back." America didn't have anything else to say, so he gritted his teeth and walked towards the door. Before he could leave, Marriane asked a question.

"Why should I listen to you? You're just another white settler that invaded our land."

Another stab of guilt.

"You should," he said finally, before leaving the house.

* * *

**June 13th, 1855**

The Gold Rush was ending.

It was rare to find any gold these days; the government made a last desperate attempt by driving out foreigners and demanding for them to pay taxes. The Native Americans were forced out of their homes. Some attacked the settlers, but were out-gunned and often slaughtered.

America's whole body ached, from financial loss and frequent wars. He stumbled through the now State of California, going through town after town, wishing to find a little hope.

And then he arrived at Silent Whisper.

He didn't know why the town chose such a disturbing name. America remembered that the last time he came here, it didn't match its name, either. The town was ordinary, nothing special.

But today, when he approached the town, all he could see was dust. The air was a yellowish brown, as if it'd just gone through a sandstorm. America held his nose and entered the town.

The streets were silent, which bewildered him. Where _was_ everybody?

He found his answer inside the sheriff's office. In a large room off the side, a crowd of people had gathered, whispering among themselves. They pointed towards the front, where a young woman with her wrists and ankles bound together stood. Across from her was a hanging rope and a noose.

The woman looked up and stared straight at him. Her eyes were a startling, stormy gray.

He'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

_Marriane._

Her eyes widened in recognition, then she smiled maliciously. Without the help of the guard, she stepped onto the platform and slipped her head into the noose.

Then she jumped.

America closed his eyes at the last moment, so he wouldn't have to see those gray eyes lose their light. He pushed through the crowds and ran outside. Locating the nearest trash bin, he threw up and slumped against the wall of a building, breathing hard.

There was something so eerie about Silent Whisper. It was almost like someone was whispering, speaking the language of ghosts and humming tales of death.

He could feel it. The death of the place. Everything was...lifeless.

"Ghosts," America whispered.

He swore never to come back again.

* * *

_60 years later_

"Aw, YEAH! FOURTH OF JULY, baby!" America pumped his fists in the air as fireworks exploded in the sky in red, white, and blue.

"This is incredibly dull," England scoffed, crossing his arms. He'd been dragged to America's birthday party like the others: France, Russia, China, and even the Axis Forces. Italy, naturally, didn't mind and instead brought enough pasta for everyone to have seconds.

"I agree with Angleterre," France said, yawning. "These fireworks have been going on for an hour already. How are you going to clean all the smoke?"

"The wind'll blow it to your country, Frenchie. Whoa, that was AWESOME!" America whooped as the fireworks formed into the shape of the American flag.

"This is an interesting pastry," Japan said, snapping his thousandth picture of a neon blue cake. "And these green cookies...and purple fruit punch..."

"I'll go make some more pasta!" Italy chirped, running back inside the house.

The time was midnight. America still had enough energy to last for another four hours, but he could see everyone else was getting tired. Germany checked his watch every five minutes, France continuously yawned, England complained, and even Russia couldn't conjure up a creepy aura. China remained silent and sipped his green tea, frowning. He probably wasn't happy America was using _his_ idea of fireworks.

"I'm gonna go take a piss," America told the others. "Catcha later!" He headed inside the house.

While he washed his hands, America pondered about what to do next year. This year focused on fireworks because they were the latest fad. Maybe next time would be...neon lights?

He next went to the kitchen for some cheeseburgers. Fast food was actually invented for the military, because they didn't have a lot of time to cook.

Unlike what he had expected, Italy wasn't banging away at the kitchen counter. In fact, there was no sign that any pasta had been cooked there. Furthermore, America discovered a small red mark on his wall. He didn't think much about it and left the house.

When he opened the door, he was met with a sandstorm.

America choked on the dust. He wondered if the others were doing okay. When he forced himself through the storm, all he saw were buildings.

Old wooden buildings. Dirt roads. No sidewalks...and no sign of the nations.

When the dust cleared, America gaped at the scene in front of him. It took him three seconds to start hyperventilating.

_It can't be...this...can't be happening..._

"Feeling nostalgic?"

America looked up and saw a girl of around six standing in the middle of the road. She had blond hair and caramel skin, and she was smiling.

"What the hell? Why I am here?" he yelled.

She smirked. "I sent you here," she said. "To remind you of what you did."

America swallowed the guilt that rose to his throat. "That was a long time ago," he said.

"Yes, but not long enough." She looked at him, and he recognized the gray of her eyes.

"My name is Whisper Berlow. My mother was Marriane Berlow, and she was attacked seventeen times in her life. She killed that equal amount of settlers. I was born after she suffered her first sexual assault. When she murdered another three men at the local diner, she was executed the next day. But before that, she told me everything."

America was silent.

"She told me why we had to live in poverty and mockery of the settlers. She said we were different from the others, which was why I was abused by the other children on a daily basis. She told me that people like us were mistreated, and thousands like us were murdered in cold blood. She told me that I was special, that I was born to seek revenge and make you pay for your crimes."

Whisper paused and cocked her head, gazing at the nation.

"Why...why haven't you aged?" America asked hoarsely.

Whisper smiled. "Because I changed. There's another way that representatives are born. It's when you begin to feel so much hate and become so attached with your home, that you're tied to it forever."

She took a step forward and her eyes hardened. "I am the personification of this town, and I _will_ kill you, if it's worth my life."

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

The room was muted.

America looked around at the nations that stood before him. Were they going to murder him for this? The answer was a 98% yes.

Then Canada moved closer to him and took his hand. Instantly he felt comforted at the touch.

"Why didn't you bloody say so earlier?" England said, breaking the silence.

America blinked. "Y-You aren't mad at me...?"

"Of course I'm mad, you git. But since we're all in this together without a choice, we might as well form an escape plan."

"Opium is right. Even if we are in your country, it doesn't mean we are here because of you, aru," China agreed. "But...you didn't mean to harm your people, right?"

He swallowed. "Yes, I did. But I regret that decision."

China sighed, tugging on his ponytail. "Everyone makes mistakes. I mistreated Taiwan, but I've learned from that now."

"If we're all clear, shall we leave tomorrow at dawn?" England asked.

"Yes. Everyone, get your rest; we have a long day ahead of us," Germany said. The fire was put out, sleeping bags were set up, and everything and everyone gradually settled down. The town seemed almost peaceful; if this was any other town, America would've slept outside, underneath the unpolluted sky.

BANG.

Someone groaned, and another voice yelled, "Bruder!"

A cabinet exploded. Italy cried out in terror.

"VENEZIANO!"

In the fireplace a fire flickered to life, but the flames danced abnormally, as if they were controlled. They spread out of the fireplace and burned the nearby curtains, then spread to the wooden tables and chairs.

Only seconds later, the entire room was on fire. China screamed. In the glowing light of the flames, America could see that China's arm had been burned. Germany was kneeling over Prussia, where splintered wood had pierced his already wounded leg. Italy was buried under the wreck of the large cabinet, while Romano and Spain tried to pull him out.

While everyone panicked, a shadow emerged from the flames. The girl stepped out, and she was not a stranger.

_Whisper,_ America thought.

_That girl..._ China thought.

_Holy Rome,_ Italy thought.

"Hello, my friends," she said, her voice drowning the sound of flickering flames. "Enjoying my hospitality?"

"Who the hell are you?" China yelled, clutching his arm. Then realization dawned him. "You can't be..."

"The poor wittle girl in America's story?" she finished in a high voice full of mockery. "Yes, I am Whisper. I sent you all here to be punished for his crimes, because our little hero just cannot seem to learn."

"We're going to escape," America said angrily. "We're going to leave this shithole and never come back. We're going to_ fight_!"

"You're one to talk!" Whisper screamed. "You killed my people in cold blood, and that wasn't enough. You had to torture them first, and then you abandoned this town because you were _afraid_. Afraid of _me_, who had powers enough to destroy you."

The countries were silent.

She dropped her angry demeanor and smiled. "Yes, I have magic. Not the pathetic magic of the United Kingdom, but true power. I can control anything in this town. I can read all of your minds and kill each of you, one by one."

Whisper turned to China first. "You're all just like him. Selfish, cruel. What did you do to Taiwan? And what do you want to do to your allies?"

"What is she talking about?" England asked.

"It's nothing," China muttered.

She next faced Japan, whose face was emotionless. "I can't even count your crimes. You didn't kill your own people; you killed others. I bet that scar is still somewhere on America's body, from the bombing of Pearl Harbor."

Japan looked away.

She turned to Germany. "You were a murderer, too. All those innocent Jews were crushed under your feet, and your people jeered at them. Mocked their religion, and tortured them until they were dead. Lifeless."

"I did not know what Hitler was doing," Germany said, looking down. "I...I didn't mean to..."

Whisper turned to Spain, and her lip curled in disgust. "You mocked the Indians too. When your people traveled to California, they drove the Natives out, and claimed the land as their own."

Spain remained silent.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" Romano charged towards her and tried to attack, but he fell backwards as if an invisible shield surrounded her body.

"I can't be harmed," she said simply, gazing down at Romano with mock pity. "Don't even think about it."

At last Whisper looked at all of them, her eyes piercing and ice cold. "You can't leave by simply walking out. You'll always end up here again, because you're in a different dimension. But I'll give you a hint, because you're all too pathetic to defeat me. I am not actually here; this is merely a shadow of who I am. Remember, I can exist anywhere, not just physically. I have weaknesses scattered around my town, and if you can destroy those, you can defeat me and leave. But I don't expect you to get that far."

Whisper smiled. "And here's a little good luck treat."

England cried out. The point of a blade grew from his chest; scarlet blood dripped on the floor and stained his shirt. He dropped to his knees and coughed blood.

"NOOOO!" America ran to England and grabbed him before he could collapse.

"Remember, start at the origin." She turned her back to them. "Good luck," Whisper said. "You'll need it." In a millisecond she was gone.

"We need to leave before the fire consumes everything!" Germany shouted. "Everyone, through the window; the door is blocked."

America lifted England and carried him bridal style, following the others. Outside, they all breathed in the fresh air. Prussia was leaning heavily on Germany. Italy's arm was bent at a funny angle and his brother and Spain steadied the injured country. Canada and Japan helped treat China's wounds. France stood alone, his face contorted.

America laid England on the ground and slowly pulled the knife out. England cried out in pain, and shivered when the blade left his body.

"You're going to live," America told England, trembling himself. "Y-You're not g-going to d-die..." America buried his face into England's shoulder. "D-Don't l-leave me al-lone..."

"America," said England softly.

"J-Just hold on, okay?"

"America, listen...to me..." England coughed weakly. "You're...going...to make it...alright? You'll survive...even if...even if I'm...not...there..."

America lifted his head. _"You're a fucking nation!"_ he cried, shaking England. The other countries looked at them. "You c-can't go!"

"I just...want you to know..." England said, in voice barely above a whisper, "...that I don't hate you. I love you, and you'll always be my little brother." He smiled weakly. "Go save the others, you wanker...and be...be the bloody hero that you are."

With that, a sigh escaped England's lips and the light in his brilliant green eyes died away. His body became entirely still.

America cried; he bent his head and tears escaped from his eyes onto England's cheeks, mingling with the blood. The clouds cried with him, as lightning crackled and rain drowned the earth. The wind wailed in despair, and in the midst of everything hung the bitter grief of losing yet another nation that had fallen to death.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

_In the shadows of the night_

_I stand with you, my friends_

_Lost and lonely without light_

_Is this where it ends?_

_..._

_Now I am all alone_

_With tears nobody can see_

_And there's no one here, no one_

_No one here but me._

* * *

**So that was depressing. D': More action and story development next chapter, now that they have a goal. :)**

**Hope ya liked it! ^^'**

**Review? ;)**

**Love,**  
**Anna**


	9. Of Love and Courage

**And yes...I'm dragging Belarus into the story. Because she kicks ass.**

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Also, if any of you are wondering why England died so early in the story, all I can say is that you'll have to wait and see. :)**

***Note: I made a tiny change to Chapter 8...just a note.**

* * *

**SUMMARY FOR THOSE WHO WERE TOO LAZY TO READ THE WHOLE THING AND SKIPPED TO THE END...DON'T WORRY, I DO IT, TOO**

The countries leave America's house to find themselves in a desert. They arrive at a town that seems empty and split into groups to investigate the town. China is captured. England and France meet up with America, who looks horrified. Germany, Japan, and Italy explore an old hotel. Germany finds China and is attacked, while Italy runs off. Japan fights off offensive monsters and meets up with Germany to find Italy. Meanwhile, Italy finds a girl and learns the truth about what happened to HRE. Prussia, Canada and Russia are attacked in another building. Russia is killed. All countries meet up and gather in a safe place for the night.

In the real world, Spain and Romano are trying to find Italy. They end up in Silent Whisper and meet the nine countries. After a bit of explaining from America (Chapter 8), the countries prepare to rest. However, they are attacked and Whisper appears. She points out each of their past mistakes and explains that she is punishing them along with America because of this. She tells them the only way to defeat her is to find her life sources in the town and destroy them. She kills England and leaves.

* * *

** Without further ado, here it is!**

**ENJOY~**

* * *

**x ChAPteR nINe x**

**.x. Belarus .x. **

Fifteen hours. That was how long she had gone without her brother.

Belarus had barely slept last night. She was afraid Russia was spending time with the bastard Asian country, instead of her.

She made her favorite breakfast to cheer herself up. And then she waited.

Four hours later, Belarus began to worry. Russia had never been out this long; he'd always return home to check on his siblings before leaving again.

Two more hours passed. Full from lunch, Belarus grabbed her bag and a few knives and left the house, ready to beat the Chinese nation to pulp.

**xXx**

He wasn't there.

After ringing (or more like smashing)the doorbell multiple times, Belarus had broken down the door and searched through China's house completely. When her investigation ended without success, a horrible thought struck the northern nation. Russia couldn't have gotten himself into a fight with America again, could he?

If so, she was going to make the American die a slow, painful death.

But at America's house, she received the same results. Instead of breaking down his door, however, she climbed inside from his window instead (curse his high-tech lock system) since he'd forgotten to close it.

What she found stranger other than the American's absence was the lack of... _personalization_ in the house. All the furniture was there, but his video games, burgers, and personal belongings were all gone. What had happened?

On the wall, Belarus found a strange symbol the size of her palm. It was blood red and seemed to almost gleam in the midday sunlight streaming through the large windows. When she turned to search someplace else, her hand accidentally brushed against the mark. There was a flash, and then everything became dark.

* * *

_America glared up at England, his hands balled into fists. "Why won't you let me have any ice cream?"_

_"Because I don't want you to get a stomachache from eating too much," England said without looking at the boy, as he flipped to the next page in his novel. "If you're good, I'll give you some tomorrow."_

_"I want it now," America objected stubbornly. "I don't want it tomorrow!"_

_"No," England answered simply._

_They were sitting outside on a grassy hill, America making mudpies, England reading. It was a beautiful day; the sun peeked out behind two thick, white clouds, the wind was just right for a summer breeze, and the air was pleasantly cool. After a lunch of sandwiches and lemonade, the two brothers felt content and peaceful._

_For America, maybe not._

_A sudden determination took over him and he tackled England, beating the nation with his fists. "Give...me...the...ice cream!"_

_"I said no!" England wrestled with the boy, tossing down his book. Despite his small size, America was quick with his comebacks, making it hard for England to pin him down. They fought furiously, until both were out of breath and drained of energy._

_"Well, have you changed your mind yet?" England asked, half hopefully._

_"I won't until I get it," America replied promptly, before launching himself at England again. But this time England was prepared; he ducked and immediately knocked America to the ground. Instead of punching the colony, he performed the famous tickle attack._

_The result was instantaneous. America surrendered himself and began giggling uncontrollably, wriggling in the grass. Not long later he had stopped attacking completely, out of breath._

_England pinned down America's arms and smirked, adopting his old pirate accent. "Do ye surrender to the mighty Captain Kirkland?"_

_"Heroes...don't give up," America said, panting and struggling to break free._

_England waited for him to gradually stop moving. "I'll tickle you again," he warned._

_"No! Anything but that!" America looked terrified as he glanced up at England with wide blue eyes._

_"Then do you yield?"_

_The boy glared at England. "I'll fight!" He made another attempt to escape England's grasp, but failed miserably._

_England waited patiently. "Well?"_

_Realizing that nothing was going to work, America scowled and said, "Fine, I give up."_

_England let him go and America sat up, still scowling. "I hope you're happy, you big jerk."_

_To his surprised, England just smiled and ruffled his hair. "You can have the ice cream, America. Just remember: losing a fight isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes you have to step back, whether it's for your own good or for others."_

_"I hate it when you say things I don't understand," America grumbled, but he was smiling. "Can I have some now? Pleeeaaase?"_

_Argh. The puppy face again. It was America's ultimate weapon. "Alright," England said. "Let's go home."_

_He stood and offered his hand to America. The boy took it and they walked towards the direction of England's home, hand in hand, the wind still blowing softly across the land._

* * *

**.x. America .x.**

Darkness.

It was as if all the light inside of him had been put out. He felt... nothing. Absolute nothingness. He could not feel or see the world the same way again; the ground did not feel like it was there, the rain did not seem to run down his back and cheeks, and no persuading could get him to rise to his feet and move on, away from his bitterness and towards life instead of death. He was simply a shell of who he used to be.

And he didn't care.

_England...he's...gone..._

_...it can't be..._

_…nations...don't...they can't..._

He loved England. He loved him so fucking much it hurt, but he could never bring himself to admit it, not once since the day he won his independence.

And now he would never get the chance again.

England looked almost peaceful, lying there in the rain, his blond hair wet, green eyes closed. The corners of his lips were slightly tilted upward, as if in relief or content. Yet upon a closer glance, you could still see the faint bruises on his arms and the dark blood stain in the middle of his chest, and that one tear still running down his cheek, unable to catch up with the millions of others that had already mingled with the rain.

_It...can't...be..._

_He isn't dead. He's not._

_England, wake up. Don't leave me._

_Wake up!_

_WAKE UP YOU IDIOT! DON'T FUCKING LEAVE ME! DAMMIT, JUST OPEN YOUR EYES!_

"America..." Canada whispered, and he realized he had said everything out loud.

He began sobbing uncontrollably, trembling so violently Canada moved away, too afraid to do anything but watch as his brother was slowly broken to pieces.

_Why..._

_Why did you have to leave me?_

**xXx**

"America, we have to go on," Canada said gently, his own voice full of sorrow.

"I can't do it," America said hoarsely, tears still running silently down his cheeks. "I can't leave him..."

He couldn't even save the person he was closest to in his life. The person he loved the most.

He was no hero.

_Yes, you are._

America's eyes widened. _W-What...?_

_Bloody wanker. You're usually so annoyingly arrogant, yet now you can't even keep that stupid grin on your face. What's wrong with you, America?_

England's voice was sharp and accusing, but it was there. Speaking to him.

Giving him hope.

_England..._

America let a smile form on his lips, a small one. He was crying again, but not from grief.

_Stand up, git. I know you don't need me to survive. The America I know is stronger than that._

_The America I know is a hero._

* * *

**.x. Canada .x.**

Canada watched in amazement as America stood slowly, turning away from the deceased nation. The rain had stopped some time ago and the moon was out, a creamy yellow patch of light in the dark sky.

When America turned to him, Canada noticed that his brother's eyes were back to their normal bright blue. In fact, he looked more alive than Canada had ever seen him since they arrived at the town.

"D-Do you want me to give you a minute?" Canada stuttered.

America regarded Canada with almost a smile. Canada stared back nervously.

At last America said, "I know where the first essence is."

* * *

**.x. Italy .x.**

They buried England in a small grove behind a residential area. Everyone helped dig a hole, then they placed the fallen nation inside.

"Well," America said, his voice wavering. "This is it."

"Yes," France agreed, wiping away a tear. "I just want to say that I didn't hate you. You were a good friend, and we've had good times together...England."

"I forgive you about the Opium War," China said. "And you weren't too bad a nation, aru."

"I enjoyed your company, England-san." Japan sighed, a little sadness showing through in his dark eyes. "You were a kind friend to me."

"Good old bastard," Romano said, but he wasn't scowling. "Your prison food sucked. Hope you get better food in heaven."

"You were such a cabrón**(1)**," Spain said. "But a good cabrón, in the end."

Then it was Prussia's turn. "I did not really get to know you," Prussia said, "but I can tell you were pretty awesome. Almost my level."

"Thank you...for noticing me..." came Canada's quiet voice. Kuma sighed.

Germany bent his head. "I am truly sorry we had to fight. Rest in peace, freund**(2)**." He then turned to Italy. "Italy, do you want to say something?"

Italy was flustered at the question. He couldn't find anything to tell England; he'd always been scared of the island nation. "O-Oh...um...that's okay..."

Germany sighed. "Very well, then. Let us proceed."

America didn't say anything. He didn't have to. They all knew what he felt inside.

When they began covering up the hole, Italy cried, "Wait!"

The nations all turned to look at him. Italy fidgeted under their gaze.

"Even though you frightened me," Italy said, his eyes resting on England, "you were still my comrade. If you were still here, I'd...I'd make some pasta and we could all eat it together. But now that's impossible." Without meaning to, tears had formed at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry we never got to enjoy each other's company. If we didn't fight, we might have been good friends. I...I hope that wherever you are, you're happy, and there's lots of good pasta that can help you think of me and your friends. Maybe someday, we'll meet again and have fun together, and there won't be any scary monsters and...and no more tears..." Italy managed a tiny smile. "We'll miss you, England. Riposa in pace, buon amico."**(3)**

Italy looked up at the nations before him. "I...I guess I'm done..."

"Italy," Germany said, "that was beautiful."

Italy's cheeks flushed. "T-Thank you."

Finally they began to cover up the hole for real. Everyone looked so serious and cold it scared Italy. He did his best to help, which wasn't much. At a closer glance, however, Italy noticed the American nation was almost smiling, as if he was at his heart's content.

**xXx**

_"You see, they don't care about you at all. Your 'allies' left you alone to rot while they paid special attention to our dear England."_

_"Lies...all lies..."_

_"You are nothing. Cold, unwanted, forgotten."_

_"LIES!"_

**xXx**

The next day, everyone woke still tired, too anxious to actually get some real sleep. Breakfast was eaten and clothes were washed at a small stream. Then everyone gathered to hear what America had to say.

"The only way we can destroy her is destroy her essences," America explained. "Before she disappeared, she gave us a hint. 'Start at the origin', I think."

"But what does she mean by that?" France questioned.

"The beginning of everything," the younger nation answered. "Marriane's home."

**xXx**

The place was old and almost collapsed. On the very edge of town, they'd come to a small shack, around the size of your average living room. Italy couldn't believe anyone could've lived here. The floorboards creaked dangerously. There was nothing in the place but a single wooden chair, a rotting table, a small fireplace, and mirror, and a torn sleeping mat. The air smelled horrible, something like a mixture of rotten eggs and burnt hair.

Yet, there was another smell behind the sharp odor. It was faint, but being a person who loved cooking, Italy was certain the smell was there. It was a fresh sort of smell, with a sweetness to it that reminded him of honey.

"There's nothing here," America said dejectedly. "Guess I was wrong, after all."

"Wait a minute," Prussia said. He was kneeling over something in the corner. "What's this?"

The nations gathered around Prussia for a look. On the wooden floor, a small shard of reflective glass lay, about the size of a pebble.

"It is probably nothing significant," Prussia said. He reached for it, but Germany stopped him.

"We should leave everything as it is," the nation reasoned. "You never know..."

At that moment, the sunlight suddenly streamed through the small window, shining exactly onto the shard of glass. The light bounced off and hit the mirror on the wall, which reflected back outside the window.

All eyes followed the beam of light. Outside the window, in an incredibly tall tree growing next to the shack, there was a single, bright sparkle.

"Something must be up there,aru," China observed. Not long later, the countries were already crowded around the tree, where he recognized the honey smell. Sure enough, Italy could see a necklace dangling on the highest branch. It had a delicate silver chain and a gold carving encrusted with a blood red ruby.

"Who is the best climber here?" Spain asked.

Everyone turned to looked at Japan, who backed away nervously. "N-Not me! You see, I am an old man. My bones are stiff and I do not think I can even climb past the first branch. I shouldn't be your best choice for the task."

"Then who else can do it, aru?" China sighed. "If I did not injure my arms, I'd be able to climb this tree."

There was a silence while everyone thought hard.

"Italy can," Germany said suddenly. Italy glanced at Germany in shock. What was he talking about? Italy couldn't even run in the right direction during practice, much less shinny up a tree that was at least 200 feet tall.

"During training, whenever I told him that the Allies were coming, he'd run at the speed of light," Germany continued. "Once, I scared him out of bed because he was late for practice. Later I found him cowering in the highest shelf in the house."

"That was an accident!" Italy protested.

"If you did it once, you can do it again," Germany said. "You are our only hope, Italy."

"I...I can't..." Italy looked away. He was such a coward. Everyone else had risked their lives, but all he could do was run and hide.

"You stupid bro," Romano said angrily. "It's for the sake of our lives. Italy is stronger than this." Then he said something unexpected. "I'll even climb it with you, you...you bastard."

Italy smiled in spite of himself. "Heh, this experience really did soften you up, fratello**(4)**."

Romano's face turned as red as a tomato. "Sh-Shut up! Let's just get the damn thing done already."

The Italian brothers moved closer to the tree. Italy went first. His heart doing a drum solo, he carefully wrapped his fingers around the trunk, placed one foot on a large knot, and hoisted himself up with all his strength.

So far, so good. Italy began steadily moving along, although his legs still shook with fear. The tree was easier to climb than he thought. He could hear Romano below him, grunting every time he brought himself higher. Soon Italy was halfway up. The necklace looked even more beautiful up close.

"Keep going, Italy!" came Germany's voice from below. Spain shouted something in Spanish in encouragement.

_Don't look down_, Italy told himself. But the more he restrained it, the more he wanted to. He gritted his teeth and reached for the next branch. He was so high up the air felt chilly against his cheeks.

At last, he could see the necklace dangling on the tip of the next tree limb. Italy gulped. It wasn't a very thick branch.

There wasn't any alternative. Italy took a deep breath and lay on his belly, crawling slowly towards the necklace.

"Italy!" Romano cried, his voice laced with panic. "What are you doing?"

"Be careful, Italy!" Spain yelled from far, far below. "That branch does not look very sturdy!"

The branch shook violently as Italy scrambled onto it. For a split second he considered turning back. If he fell, he would not survive.

But he couldn't give up. He had to go on, for his friends. For England and Russia.

He had to succeed.

All wits left his mind. He enclosed himself in a bubble, drowning out the nations' yells and the terrified cries from his brother. And he began to move forward.

_'Italy, no! You're going to kill yourself!'_

He heard the branch crack, but he ignored the sound and extended his arm.

_'Italy! Dammit, listen to me! You are not going any further, you hear me? Come back!'_

Icy sweat trickled down his forehead. Italy's numb fingers brushed the necklace. He was so close...if he could just move...a little further...

_'ITALY, STOP! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT!'_

His fingers wrapped around the chain. The branch snapped and gave away beneath his body, until nothing was left between him and the ground 200 feet below.

Italy fell.

* * *

**Cliffhanger, I'm sorry. You'll have to wait and see if I decide to spare our sweet, innocent Italy or not. **

**Translations: **

**(1) cabrón: bastard**

**(2) freund: friend**

**(3) Riposa in pace, buon amico: Rest in peace, good friend**

**(4) fratello: brother**

******Thanks for reading, and stay tuned! ;)**

**FAV, FOLLOW, REVIEW~**

**Love,**

**Anna**


	10. Mirrors

**Hola, amigos! :) I'm back again, with the tenth chapter. Sorry for the late update! Life was a little busy, with exams and whatnot.**

**So I just updated the same story twice. Well. My OC fic has gotten long and dull and I'm out of ideas for London Hetalympics. Hopefully, I can hammer out a chapter for one of those, soon.**

**But, anyway, I couldn't resist writing this chapter, because...well, this story is getting pretty exciting. XD**

**Last note: Read Geirdriful's stories. I guarantee, you will LYAO. Guaranteed.**

**Happy tenth chapter! ENJOY~**

* * *

**CHaPTeR tEn **

**.x. Belarus .x.**

In a way, the town was beautiful. Golden sunlight splashed over the treetops and across the roofs of the buildings. Shadows contrasted with the light and made up the darker side of the place. There was an air of mystery to the town, the kind of mystery that commanded silence. But in truth, Belarus wasn't one to care for beauty.

Knives in hand, the female nation entered the town, nothing but Russia on her mind. She had a hunch she'd find him here, simply because they were siblings and the connection was there. Still, something nagged at her. It wasn't that she wouldn't find him, exactly. More like he'd be there, but not the way she expected.

An inhuman growl split the air and the monster jumped out. It had empty eye sockets and bloody flesh, some rotted away, revealing its ribcage. The monster spouted four hairy limbs and spat poison. When its saliva sprayed onto the hem of Belarus's dress, the fabric burned away, leaving a golf ball-sized hole.

That angered the nation. This...this thing had just ruined her favorite dress, given to her by her brother. Her eyes turned murderous and she advanced towards it, removing the blades strapped to her thighs. After a short fight, the creature was dead, if it wasn't already dead in the first place. She wasn't injured herself; all she received was a few splatters of dark blood on her dress. Never mind the stains; those could be washed off.

Belarus moved on.

* * *

**.x. Italy .x.**

He just wished he'd had more time. It seemed too early for him to leave.

_I...did it...I saved them. At least a little. I wasn't useless, after all._

Italy's fingers wound tighter around the necklace as the world became a blur. He closed his eyes.

_I'm sorry, Germany. And Japan, and Romano...and everybody..._

_..._

_...?_

Italy opened his eyes again. He stared down at the ground far below, and found he had stopped falling. The blast of wind against his cheeks was gone; all Italy could feel was an immense pressure on his wrist.

"You _idiot_!" a voice yelled from above. "Why did you have to do something so _stupid_?"

Italy looked up. Romano was leaning out of the tree, one hand gripping Italy's wrist so tightly he stopped the blood from circulating. To his shock, Italy realized that his brother was crying.

"Ro...Romano..."

The branch that supported Romano groaned and began to splinter. Half a second later, it snapped and both Italian brothers fell. Romano grabbed onto another branch with his free hand.

"Romano...you're hurting yourself..." Italy whispered, when hints of blood began to form on the flesh of his brother's hand from the rough surface of the branch.

"I'm not letting you go," Romano said, tears still streaming down his face. "Never."

"But why?" Italy asked, almost crying himself. "I thought you hated me for taking the spotlight for everything. I'm no good to you. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can't live without you!" Romano said angrily. "Dammit, why can't you understand? If you die, you'll take part of me with you." He gripped Italy's wrist even tighter. "You can't leave me. You can't leave me alone, because if you do, I'll never forgive myself for not being able to save my own little brother!"

The branch snapped, just like the first. Italy screamed. This time Romano couldn't grab onto anything, and the two nations tumbled into the air.

As the wind howled around them, Italy felt Romano let go of his wrist and instead reach for his hand.

Italy landed on something soft. He opened his eyes and found all the nations staring down at him.

Germany spoke. "I...I...should not have asked you, Italy. I am truly sorry. You almost...you almost..." He turned away. Italy sat up and rolled off the thing that had cushioned his fall, and Romano did the same. It looked like a bedsheet.

Italy turned to the nations, but they all averted their eyes, guilt written on their faces.

"But I did it," Italy said, confused. "I got the necklace."

Still no one answered him. Crestfallen, Italy dropped the necklace to the ground. "I guess you don't need me, huh..."

"It's not that, Italy," Spain said. "It's just...you could've...well..."

"YOU COULD'VE DIED!" Romano pulled his fist back and gave Italy a hard punch in the shoulder.

"Ow..." Italy winced.

"Don't do something like that again! I'm not going to save your ass next time." Romano scowled at him.

Italy nodded weakly. Secretly, he was glad that the old Romano was back.

"Hey, uh, Italy," America said. Italy turned to face the nation. "That was a really heroic thing you did," the American said, then added, "And stupid."

Italy smiled shyly. "So, are we going to break the necklace?"

"Yeah." They both looked down at the sparkling ruby. "On the count of three..."

"One..."

"...two..."

"...three."

The other nations looked on as Italy and America crushed the necklace with the heels of their shoes, denting its chain and cracking the pearls. Then America took out his gun, aimed it at the large red jewel, and fired.

When the ruby exploded in millions of tiny pieces, the world seemed to brighten. Just a little.

* * *

**.x. Japan .x.**

After the essence became nothing more than dust, a narrow trail carved through the grass, leading deeper into the woods beyond the tree.

"It's probably some kind of trap," America surmised. "We better head in the opposite direction...I mean, who knows what's in there?"

"It is too obvious to be a trap," Japan pointed out. "If she wanted to mislead us, then she could just do so by force."

"Japan has a point," Germany agreed. "We'll take the trail."

And thus, the nations followed the path into the woods. Not long later, it ended at a small clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a small seed the size of a cashew.

"Ha! That was easy!" America rushed ahead and tried to pick it up, but dropped it as if it were scalding hot. "Ow! What the..."

Narrow, slanted words slowly appeared on the ground. Everyone read them earnestly:

_You have succeeded in destroying one part of me, and so you have received a clue to the next essence, as you will every time you destroy one; this is simply because I am impressed._

_This seed is not destructible, unless you give it a chance to live. Here are the ingredients:_

_Liquid shadow_  
_Blood from one nation. I will not tell you which one_  
_An angel's tears_  
_A six-leaf clover_

They stared at the words. And stared.

Prussia said what was on everyone's minds. "Where are we going to get these ingredients?"

Right on cue, another three paths formed at the edge of the clearing.

**xXx**

The nations split up. America, France, China, and Canada took the left trail. Spain, Romano and Prussia took the right trail, and Japan, Germany, and Italy took the middle.

Japan went ahead, katana gripped tightly in his hand. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting patterns of light on the ground.

At any moment, they could be attacked.

The Asian nation had anticipated a zombie-like creature jumping from the shadows, a tree toppling over, and the plants suddenly coming to life, but he did not expect the ground to give away beneath his feet. The world flipped, then Japan landed...but not in darkness.

He was standing in the exact same spot before the fall, but Italy and Germany were gone. The whole forest was silent. Japan surveyed his surroundings, and decided everything seemed alright...safe enough, at least.

Until he turned to his left and saw himself a few meters away.

Japan almost screamed. He took a step back, and his other self imitated him perfectly. Japan stared at himself for a moment, then cautiously raised his hand. Just as he had expected, his other self raised his hand as well to match Japan's.

_So I am looking at my reflection_, Japan thought._ Then perhaps...this is a mirror?_

He moved foward slowly with his arms extended, until his fingers bumped against smooth, cold glass. Japan walked the length of the mirror and bumped into...himself. Again. He twisted his head to look at his second reflection. Dark, opaque eyes stared back. In the glass, he caught sight of himself reflected in another glass that was reflected in _this_ glass.

Sudden Japan realized he was surrounded by mirrors. He could see at least ten reflections of himself and countless of the trees around him. It made him wary.

It made him scared, too.

He could feel it in his blood: someone-some_thing_-was close by. It was definitely not human. Japan scanned the mirrors intently, muscles tense.

He heard it before he saw it. A roar ripped through the air and he glimpsed the zombie's reflection. Half flesh, half bone and all blood, with jagged teeth and shiny black eyes, it charged at him from behind. Japan was ready. He slipped into the samurai's stance and swung his katana, slicing off one of its limbs.

It shrieked and lunged for Japan. The nation ducked, but he was an inch off. The zombie knocked away his sword and sunk its teeth into his arm.

Japan bit back a scream and tried to pry open its jaws with his free hand. The pain made him see dark spots and he willed himself to focus. The zombie tackled him and he fell, its teeth still locked on his arm.

His sword was a few feet away. If he could just reach out his arm...

Japan rolled onto his stomach and the monster began to claw at his back. He could feel the cuts it made and the sharp stabs of pain that traveled down his spine as he dragged himself towards his weapon. When he was sure he was going to lose consciousness, Japan's fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. He lifted it and stabbed the blade straight through the zombie's heart.

It moaned and crumbled to dust. Japan lay there, breathing hard, covered in blood, dust and sweat. He felt so weak he couldn't even move.

_Poison,_ Japan thought. _So this is its ultimate weapon._

Japan could feel its venom rushing through his veins, as quick as running water. His head pounded and the trees began to swim. But before his vision blurred completely, Japan saw it.

Reflected in one of the mirrors, a vivid green clover perched on a small island in the middle of a beautiful lake (perhaps it was only a hallucination), small and fragile.

It sprouted six leaves.

* * *

**.x. Germany .x.**

"Germany?"

"Yes, Italy?"

"Um...where did Japan go?"

Germany blinked. Hadn't Japan been in front of them a few minutes ago? Somehow, the Asian nation had disappeared, and Germany hadn't even noticed.

_Did he wander off by himself? No, that does not seem like Japan._

"Germany, is...is that Japan's hat over there?"

The German followed Italy's pointing finger to an obect lying in the grass a few feet away. They approached it, and Germany knelt for a closer look.

Indeed, it was a Japanese-style hat, olive-green with a yellow star embroidered on the front. He picked it up and stood, a wary feeling coming to him. A small breeze fluttered the leaves, a cloud passed over the sun, and the shadows became more conspicuous.

"Do you think he's okay?" Italy asked finally.

Germany hesitated, then looked up at the morning sky. "I don't know, Italy. I really don't know."

It was about to rain.

* * *

**Short chapter, sorry. ^^' I can say it's kind of a filler. The next chapter will be better, obviously.**

**Thank you for being patient with me (although I probably flunked AMC. AMERICA, WHY IS YOUR MATHEMATICS COMPETITION SO HARD?)! To those of you who don't know what to comment about, here's a question: What do you think Belarus will do when she finds out Russia is gone? Make your response creative. :)**

**Until next time, which is soon. :D**

**Love,**  
**~Anna~**


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